Our Little Secret
by tarheelveteran
Summary: Girls who chat online are disappearing, and the team must race time to find a cyberkiller. Meanwhile, Emmie must marry within four months or lose her estate. Ryan shies away, but someone else is wooing her, and his motives have nothing to do with love
1. The Killing Field

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of CSI Miami's characters or intellectual property. I own all of my OC's and nobody else. Please don't sue me; my lawyer's in jail. **

**A/N: This is the third story of my Ryan/Emmie series. Any reviews would be appreciated. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1—The Killing Field<strong>

The brightness of the screen reflected off the girl's soft brown eyes as she clicked on her Itunes. As the speakers came to life, she turned up the volume and let her head sway with the music.

No sooner had the screen lit up than the girl tapped out her user ID and password. She went screen by screen, code by code, glancing between the monitor and the keyboard. She hoped. She hoped. He had to be there. He said he would.

Jason had left her a message. He was waiting for her. Just like he promised.

The girl clicked on the envelope, and the screen popped up again. It was him.

_"Woot!" _

Her arms and her long brown hair swayed as she did her chair dance. "Jason!" Now she felt chills as she slowly tapped the keyboard.

"HI JASON. HOW R U?"

IM FINE. TOLD YA ID BE HERE. HOW WAS SCHOOL?

The girl wrinkled her nose. "SUX. HAD A GEOMETRY TEST TODAY. DON'T THINK I DID SO GOOD."

I HAD 2 TURN IN A CIVICS PAPER. GOT A B+

"GR8."

GOT A SRPZ. U R NOT GUNNA BELIEVE THIS.

"WUT"

I'M RIGHT HERE IN MIAMI NOW.

The girl just stared at her screen for a minute. Here in Miami?

"NK? WHEN?"

GOT HERE YESTERDAY. PARENTS HAD BUSINESS. THEY SAID I COULD COME W THEM. WANNA MEET?

A chill ran through her. She giggled and blushed. "YA. WHERE?"

SOUTHLAND MALL. IN FRONT OF OLD NAVY. KNOW WHERE IT IS?

She could hardly contain herself. "WAIT. LET ME GOOGLE IT." The girl clicked her keys again. Screens popped up one by one, but not fast enough for her. "Come on, come on. YA. ILL B THERE 2 PM. WUT D U WANNNA DO?"

HANG OUT. EAT. MAYBE WE CAN C A MOVIE OR SUMTHIN.

"SOUNDS GR8. ILL B THERE."

JUST 1 THING. CAN U COME ALONE? I WANT US 2 HAVE FUN AND DON'T WANT ANY PARENTS THERE 2 MESS THINGS UP.

The girl smiled. It all sounded so daring. "GR8."

IM PARKED OUTSIDE THE OLD NAVY. BLUE BALL CAP BLACK TSHIRT N A YELLO MUSTANG.

She just sat back in her chair. Jason had a car?

"WOW. U HAVE A CAR?"

YA. PARENTS LET ME USE IT.

"OK. I HAVE TO CATCH THE BUS. CU SOON."

Immediately the girl clicked off the screen. Her head was swimming as she glanced around her bedroom for her backpack. Jason was right here in Miami? And he even had his own car? This was just too good to be true. They had been chatting online for nearly four months now, and she was finally going to meet him. As her printer spat out the Mapquest directions, she folded them and stuffed them into the front flap of her backpack. She then upended it, dumping her books, papers and pen out onto the bed. Wallet, windbreaker, keys. Backpack over her left shoulder, she quickly ran out of the bedroom. Nothing else mattered anymore.

The woman sensed her daughter was leaving in a hurry. Unusual for a Friday afternoon. "Nicole? Where are you going?"

"Just out, Mom!" the girl replied, hurrying to the door as quickly as she could.

"Nicole!" She put her hand up after the girl, but then she heard a SLAM! Like she had so many times before. Then silence. She sighed. "I better see you in time for dinner!" she yelled at the front door.

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><p>With a puff of exhaust the bus pulled away from the stop. As she dodged across the street, she craned her neck and looked through the sea of cars.<p>

Sure enough, there was the yellow Mustang, right across from the Old Navy entrance. She breathed deeply as she held her backpack over one shoulder and ran up to the car. Nothing else in the world mattered.

He kept his head down, showing her nothing but his blue ball cap. "Nicole?"

* * *

><p>A line of patrol cars were parked along the ruddy old swamp road, lights flashing. Frank Tripp had his hands on his hips as he chatted with two uniformed officers. He then wiped the sweat off his bald spot and waved some gnats away as he scanned the open field. Anything involving kids was troubling for them. He then walked over to Horatio who was bent over the mud-soaked backpack that had been found in the ditch. Ryan knelt down and snapped pictures.<p>

"Patrol was out here. Says a highway surveyor spotted it and called it in. Guy heard on the news about Nicole Olson."

His eyes still on the muddy backpack, Horatio stood up. "Yes, they're supposed to widen this road all the way to the 95 Bridge. Too much beach traffic." He then glanced around again before he picked up the backpack and examined it more closely with his gloved hands. "Somebody obviously threw this, probably from a car window."

"Like they were throwing garbage" Frank noted. Forensics wasn't his expertise, but he had seen enough over the years.

The red backpack had a mud splash on one corner. The lower third of the canvas fabric was now soaked with brown water. Horatio could tell that it had landed in the grassy ditch with some force. It was damp all over now, probably from South Florida's pop-up spring showers.

"Well, Nicole's parents reported they last saw her on Friday afternoon." He glanced up at the blue sky. "I'd say this backpack was thrown out here on Saturday, judging from the moisture." He opened the front flap and pulled out a mud-soaked red flowered wallet. He flipped it open and looked at the school ID card. Water dripped to the pavement. "Nicole Olson."

Frank nodded. "Yep. That's our computer girl. Delko's checking out the lake areas down the road, just in case we got a body dump. Gonna be tough. Lot of tire marks here. Kids bring their four-wheelers through here and have weekend parties. Found piles of beer bottles over by that tree line. No telling if one of them dumped anything else."

A line of cadets in dark uniforms were stepping carefully through the knee-deep sawgrass, eyes to the ground. The heat of the mid-morning sun was causing the Florida humidity to rise. Their black issue boots squished in the mud. Some of them shook their faces away from the gnats and mosquitoes. All of them knew they were here to do the work that seasoned cops wouldn't do, but it was important nonetheless. Besides, somewhere down the road each one knoew they could have the next group of cadets trudge through the swampy fields.

Calleigh walked on one end of the line while Natalia walked on the other, both watching the ground and their charges.

All of them stiffened up when a young, female cadet put her hand up. The line stopped, all still watching the ground below them and waiting for further orders.

What did you find?" Natalia shouted, crossing the field carefully behind them.

Without saying a word, the girl pointed at a muddy sneaker that lay sideways in front of her. With a gloved hand, Natalia waded in and picked up it up. Calleigh waded her way through the other side.

"Think that's from our computer girl?" Natalia asked.

With a gloved hand, Calleigh turned it sideways and examined it. "A Sketchers, Size Seven. Could be. Plenty of mud with more on the heel and toe. Like she was running from something." She handed it to Natalia. "Bag and tag it."

"Too far from the road to be thrown. No sign anybody ran out here. I'll have Ryan run this to the lab."

As the line of cadets kept moving, Calleigh and Natalia stepped with them on either side.

"No sign of any body dump or any foul play out there, Horatio" Ryan said. "Nothing else out there." He examined the bagged muddy sneaker. "I don't think this was from our computer girl. Whoever wore this was running. Hard."

Horatio looked out over the field. A partier? Another teenage girl? He tightened his lips. "I want you to get this and the backpack to the lab. Somebody's daughter's been missing for three days now." He then looked to the sky and donned his sunglasses. "And if she's still alive, every second is going to count against her."

This time a male cadet put his hand up. Rank discipline was all but forgotten as he turned around and looked back at them with a look that told them he'd unmistakably found something.

Eric Delko perked his head up. "What is it?"

He pointed down at the grass in front of him.

The CSI darted through the grass as carefully as he could, not wanting to disturb any other possible evidence, finally stopping just feet from the young man.

" Hey H!"


	2. One Man's Treasure

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Last chapter I forgot to mention. Thanks and a shout-out to CSI Babs for coaching me on texting. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 2—One Man's Treasure<strong>

"Got your text, Alexx. What did you find?"

Ryan stood beside the M.E. as she turned around and regloved before slowing him her latest post. "The girl Delko found out in the field is still a Jane Doe. No ID, nothing. Asking Emmie to put out a search for prints and dental records. So she's your case, Sweetie?"

"Yeah." He smiled and nodded. It always had a charming affect on him when she called him those names.

"I can tell you this. Wisdom teeth tell me she was eighteen tops. No bleeding or swelling on the ears, so we can rule out blunt-force trauma. Petechiae in both eyes." Alexx motioned toward the sleeping girl's neck. "Marks resembling thumbprints just inferior to her larynx, went deep into the cricoid cartilage. The ring around her neck suggests not only did her killer cut her airway off, but oxygen couldn't get to her brain either. But this tells me a little more here. Bruises on her right arm, and a patch of her hair is missing. All of these are antemortem. You didn't go down with a fight, did you Angel?"

"Strangled with bare hands. Guy had to have one hell of a grip on her."

Alexx now circled her finger around her neck. "These bruises say the killer had really strong fingers. I say fingers because the thumbprints are exactly inferior to her throat, whereas if he had more upper body strength, there would have been more bruising under her spinal cord." She pulled back the sheet all the way now and made a circular motion around the girl's lower legs. Pink and red stripes covered her shins and feet. "She was running hard through that sawgrass, I can tell you."

Ryan smiled a little. "Yeah, I know. That stuff'll cut you up pretty badly. Messed me up at a few crime scenes."

Alexx pulled the legs of her scrubs and showed him the same stripes. "Delko helped me retrieve the body." She then eased up the girl's scarred right foot. "Now you come over here, and you'll see that the sole of her right foot is all cut up too."

Ryan nodded. "The sneaker we found out there earlier. Mud on the foot matched the field. Valera says the DNA in the sneaker matched our Jane Doe. Anything else I should know?"

Alexx looked at the sleeping face sadly. She hated these kinds of cases. "Vaginal clock test indicates tearing at five, six and seven o' clock. Definitely raped. No sperm, no epithelials, though. He must've used a condom.

Senior Cybertechnician Emmie Stockburne slowly opened the door and peered into the morgue. Alexx motioned to her. "Come on in, honey. Got room for one more."

Emmie smiled as she slipped inside. "Hi Alexx. Just checking up on those ten cards."

The M.E. handed her a sealed plastic bag. "See if those match up. I'll send you the dental when I get it back."

Emmie nodded as she examined the white cards. "I'll run these. Hopefully something will turn up."

Ryan then reached into his pocket and handed her a small silver jump drive. "Here's a copy of the DNA info Natalia gave me. Might help you find out more." He then nodded to Alexx. "Gotta go. Thanks, Alexx. See you later, Emmie."

Out of the corner of her eye, Alexx couldn't help but notice how Ryan and Emmie looked at each other. Emmie dipped her head, and those green eyes had that sparkle in them. Ryan was simply handing her a gray flash drive, but his hazel eyes were looking at her longingly. As Emmie took the flash drive, she looked like she wanted to grasp his hand. Maybe Ryan and Emmie were keeping things on a professional level, but it was hard to miss the love in those faces.

The M.E. tried to make small talk. "Well, I hear they cleared you for the field, honey. Now you can go with us and deal with the sawgrass and the bugs and the humidity. Tyler's been here a lot longer than you, and he doesn't have a field clearance."

Emmie smiled back. "Nothing special. I just transferred my FBI field hours, and Horatio signed off on them. I'll take sawgrass over blown-up tanks and oil well fires any day of the year."

"I'm sure of that." It was no use. The M.E. gave the computer tech a knowing smile. Emmie tried to brush it off. "What?"

"That hardly looked like two co-workers talking about a case."

Emmie furrowed her eyebrows and pointed behind her. "Huh? Oh. I just have to scan these prints and run them." But both of them knew that Emmie was not being very convincing.

"You and Ryan?" she finally whispered.

Emmie finally took a deep breath and nodded. "Since the VIP Gala. But please don't tell anybody?"

"Why not? You're allowed to see him. That no-fraternization rule only applies to two armed officers. You're a lab tech."

"I know. But I just have my reasons for keeping it a secret." Emmie looked at her with pleading eyes. "Alexx? Please promise me?"

"You're secret's safe with me, Sweetie. But you two make a beautiful couple."

"Thanks. You're a lifesaver."

"Okay. Well, this post is done. Emmie, why don't you want anybody to know?"

Emmie thought about Rick Stetler and how easily Ryan could be intimidated by him. "I'll tell you when the time is right."

* * *

><p>IAB agent Rick Stetler held the red pocket folder as he strode out of the office proudly. He smiled and fingered his blue paisley tie while his latest victory was still fresh in his mind.<p>

"Stetler!" a familiar voice said behind him.

The tall, black-haired sergeant glanced behind him. "Hey."

"Congratulations. Nice work you did on that causeway case."

Rick gave him half a smile. He couldn't always tell whether his IAB colleagues were ribbing him or not. "Thanks."

"Nice tie. Least you got the colors to match this time."

"Funny."

It was hard to miss that Rick's attention was suddenly somewhere else. The man followed his younger colleague's gaze. At the end of the blue hallway stood Emmie Stockburne, the crime lab's senior computer tech. She was glancing at a brown case folder and chatting with Maxine Valera. He craned his neck and studied the tall, muscular computer tech. Then he glanced back at the sergeant.

"I, uh, see you put in your packet for Lieutenant again. Gonna make another try, huh?"

His eyes were still fixed on Emmie. "Yeah. I figured it was time."

"Smart." He paused. "Looks like the promotion isn't all you've had on your mind."

Rick turned around and furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

The man sniffed. "Come on. You think nobody sees you slobbering over her?"

"I wasn't slobbering!"

He smiled knowingly. "Might not be a bad idea to take your chances with her again before you go in front of the promotion board. Maybe she can help you match up those colors. And this time don't let a fax machine fall on your head."

Rick ignored his colleague's jabs. He watched Emmie tap the brown case folder against those fingers. He could hear that musical laughter when Maxine said something. He could see how that chestnut hair rested around those shoulders. And those curvy legs. In his mind's eye he could reach out and touch them.

But then his thoughts wandered back in time. There was that humiliating breakup with Yelina. Those fiery arguments. And that black eye. The near knock-down, drag-out he nearly had with Horatio Caine. The memory still churned his stomach. Horatio Caine. Yelina had always wanted him to be Horatio. Hell, _everybody_ expected him to be Horatio, it seemed! It was a long time ago, but it still felt to him like it happened yesterday.

"A Stockburne? And still single?" his partner mused. "Rumor has it she kind of wants to get married."

"She's a widow" he corrected. "And thanks a lot. I'll just wait for my name to get back on the Lieutenants' List again, okay?"

"Uncle's a federal judge. Father's the CEO of a holdings company. Think about what you could do with that kind of pull. And who knows? Maybe she's got some memberships she's not telling you about."

Rick put one hand in his pocket and breathed deeply to dispel the anxiety. Emmie apparently sensed his eyes on her when she glanced in his direction. Quickly he turned away from her.

The partner had seen enough. He leaned his head toward the IAB agent. "Hey, uh, Stetler? Everybody knows you want to move up. You should've gotten that last promotion. I'm just telling you. All the good ones have wives who know how to play the game" he said deliberately. "Okay, so you're not the ladies' man. Just take her out once in a while, okay?"

Rick's confidence always seemed to evaporate when he thought about Emmie. How could someone like that still be there for the taking? That friendly smile, those curvy legs. That powerful family. That musical laughter. And maybe his partners were right. Could she be coming into some money that he didn't know about? It could sure make life comfortable for a police sergeant in Miami. Judge Parr at his fingertips? And a well-known holdings company? She would get him the standing he knew was due him. Horatio Caine would finally have to respect him.

But deep down he knew Emmie wasn't like those other female lab techs. While their lives were open books, she was mysterious and reserved. Almost like she was waiting for some man to come and unlock her mysteries. Besides, she was always suspicious of him since the night he took her to dinner at the Silver Palm.

_All the good ones have wives who knows how to play the game. _

Satisfied, his partner slapped his shoulder as the elevator doors opened. "See you later."


	3. Tracks

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3—Tracks<strong>

There was a heaviness and sadness that could be felt the moment Calleigh walked into the living room. Meredith Olson hadn't left the house since the last time she had seen her daughter. She still wore the same red overshirt and polyester pants as she had all weekend, her brown hair in its now disheveled ponytail, now living for the moment that her daughter might come back through the screen door. Living for the moment that she would know for sure that Nicole was all right. That it was all a misunderstanding. That she could cry her eyes out and hold her little girl again.

Calleigh watched her sympathetically while Emmie waited by the Hummer.

"Mrs. Olson, is it normal for Nicole to just disappear for days at a time like this?"

A fresh wave of tears came over her. "No, Officer."

"What was Nicole doing when you last saw her Friday afternoon?"

The woman looked around her and grabbed another Kleenex. "She…was…in her room. I think she was…chatting online again. And then she…just…ran out the door. She had her backpack with her."

"Did she tell anyone where she was going?"

"She said she was…just going out." The woman looked at her with a tear-stained face and huffed. "You know how kids are. Nicole's fifteen. She doesn't tell me much anymore. I guess she got too old to tell me anything anymore."

"Maybe she told one of her friends at school?"

The woman closed her eyes. "Nicole really hasn't been talking to her friends at school lately."

"Do you know whether she might have been involved in something?"

She looked numbly at the scratched brown floor in front of her. "What do you mean by 'involved in something?' Our daughter was doing just fine until-" She then stopped herself. Calleigh tipped her head up.

"Until what, Mrs. Olson?"

There was no use. She just kept staring forward. "I guess all the signs were there. She was always so outgoing, had good grades, you know, all the things you hope your little girl would be. Then about six months ago, some friends got her turned onto those damned chat rooms. She kept the door to her bedroom shut, but we could hear her on the computer. I put my ear to the door a couple of times. I could hear her laughing and typing on that keyboard. Not long after that, her grades started slipping, and she wasn't keeping up on her chores. She had to come out to eat with us, but she wouldn't say word one to anybody about anything. No, everything in her life became all about online chatting. Finally her father threatened to take away her computer if she didn't straighten up. So she got her grades back up and started doing her chores again, so we really didn't worry about it. Tom's her father. He went to work today. Too hard for him to be at home right now."

"Mrs. Olson, do you think she might have been chatting with someone in particular?"

The woman just shook her head. "I guess I should have looked, shouldn't I?"

"Mrs. Olson, I'd just like to take a look in Nicole's room to see if there's anything that might help us find her. I'd also like to bring in a computer expert who wants to scan Nicole's emails and chat sessions. Are you willing to let us do that?"

The woman put her hand up with a start. "You're not gonna take her computer, are you?" she begged, her voice shaking. "Nicole will be back. We just don't know where she is right now. She's gonna be back. Isn't she?"

"We don't need to take her computer. We're just going to have someone from our computer lab copy her hard drive and then take the information back to our lab and analyze it. We might be able to find out the events leading up to her disappearance, and might even give us some help in finding her."

The woman motioned toward her daughter's blue bedroom as a fresh wave of tears came over her. She then buried her face in the new Kleenex.

Calleigh stood up from the couch and motioned for Emmie to come in.

Black toolcase in tow, Emmie stood politely before the woman. It had been several years since she had been in the field, and she had forgotten what it was like to be face-to-face with a grieving mother. It was time to be both professional and sympathetic.

"Ma'am, my name is Emmie Stockburne. I'm a cyberexpert with the Miami-Dade crime lab. I have tools I can plug into Nicole's hard drive. The process is called 'mirroring.' It copies everything that's on the hard drive, to include emails and chats. If I may, I'd like to mirror the computer and then take the information back to the lab. Like Officer DuQuesne said, this could help us pin down Nicole's whereabouts."

"Go ahead" the woman sobbed.

Emmie dipped her head. "Thank you, Ma'am."

As Emmie followed Calleigh toward the bedroom, the woman suddenly lurched from the couch and grabbed Emmie's arm in desperation, nearly pulling her off balance. She couldn't help herself anymore. "Please find her?"

The former Marine reflexively dropped her toolcase and put her hand up, turning around with a start. In a fit to defend herself, Emmie had her hand close to the mother's neck. Meredith Olson was too distraught to notice. Emmie caught her breath as the mother released her arm.

Calleigh looked at Emmie, clearly bothered by the way she responded. "We're going to do everything we can, Mrs. Olson."

Emmie caught her breath and looked around as Calleigh snapped on latex gloves and began to look around the room.

Nicole had clearly spent much of her time at the computer desk. The wastebasket was full of soda cans and candy wrappers; some lying on the floor where she had missed. A bookshelf above the unmade bed had gathered dust, showing that the girl had lost all interest in books. Calleigh sampled the air around Nicole's bed.

"Looks like she hasn't changed these sheets in a long time. School books and things just dumped out onto the bed. She was in a hurry to go somewhere Friday. Anything you can tell me about the computer?"

Emmie slipped her hands into latex gloves as she took out her black scanning drive. She looked over the black console. She then looked at Calleigh and shrugged. "I don't see anything unusual about how this computer was set up. But I can tell Nicole just about lived at this computer while she was in this room." She shined her black flashlight over the cracks and crevices of the black monitor and keyboard. "Crumbs in the keyboard. Fried chicken, granola bars, cookies, and yeah, I'd even say she spilled her drink in here a couple of times. Looks like soda, water, all your typical caffeines."

Calleigh studied the computer desk as Emmie knelt down and plugged in the scanner. Emmie reached up and clicked the keyboard while Calleigh picked up items and studied them. "Mrs. Olson said she'd go right into the room, come out for dinner, and then go right back. This went on for about six months."

"I haven't seen everything from the drive yet, but the date and time stamps look about right" Emmie said, watching the monitor. "At first glance, it looks like she had a back-and-forth going with some guy who went by the name of Jason."

"How often?"

"Looks like, well, every single day. And look at these times. Her last class at Miami High School was at two in the afternoon." Emmie shook her head. "Half an hour for her to get home, and her first log-in of the day was about two-thirty in some cases. She logged off about six for dinner, and then came right back at seven, sometimes chatting well after midnight."

Calleigh now gave the computer tech a long, hard look. "Been a while since you've been in the field, hasn't it?"

Emmie furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at her. "Huh?"

"When she grabbed your arm, you looked like you were gonna choke her" she nearly whispered. "Do me a favor. Take it one day at a time. Don't give Stetler a reason to keep you in the lab, okay?"

The reality of what she had done began to sink in. Emmie really wanted to make a good first impression. "I'm sorry, Calleigh. You're not gonna tell anybody, are you?"

The ballistics expert gave her a reassuring smile. "Just make sure you don't let Horatio see you do that."

"Thanks."

* * *

><p>Horatio stood behind Emmie in the computer lab, hands on hips, and peered over her shoulder as screens popped up one by one.<p>

"Miss Stockburne. Anything on that hard drive that will help us?" he wanted to know, his steely blue eyes reading each screen.

She leaned back in the chair and looked up at her boss. "Well, Sir, Calleigh's getting the surveillance from the Southland Mall and from the transit bus that Nicole rode over there." She motioned toward the screen. "Guy goes by the name of Jason. No last name. Said he wanted to hang out and maybe see a movie."

Horatio nodded with a resolve. "Yes. And he didn't want any parents there to mess things up."

Emmie nodded. "This Jason claimed to be from Denver, and it looks like he described a lot of Denver pretty well. He talked about I-70, Pike's Peak, the ski areas, snow. One problem, though." She clicked the keyboard again. "This IP address." She pointed to the main monitor. "Now, to somebody who doesn't know how internet service works, it looks like Jason was chatting on a computer out of Denver. The service provider was based out of Colorado Springs. But these first three digits? This isn't even an American address."

Horatio nodded.

"I recognize the binary code for this kind of IP address. He used what's called an anonymizer. I used to see this in phishing sites and child porn out of Bangkok all the time when I was with the FBI. The IP address will have three digits, a decimal, then two numbers, then a decimal, and then two numbers. The first three numbers will tell you what country or what continent an internet connection is in."

"Any idea where this Jason is chatting from?"

She looked at him. "I'm gonna have to track it down, Sir. Most of these fake addresses come from India, Costa Rica, Kenya. Unfortunately, this is going to take a little time."

Horatio looked at her with a resolve. "Miss Stockburne, we're gonna find this Jason so we can find Nicole. So take the time."


	4. Something to Hide

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Contains minor spoilers for "Shattered" and "Nailed"**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4—Something to Hide<strong>

Quietly Emmie picked up Ryan's barely-touched plate from the coffee table. She didn't glance at him. She knew that he probably didn't care for the roast beef and rice. But among her talents, both she and Ryan knew that cooking wasn't one of them. She simply scraped the remains into the garbage, washed off the plates, and stacked them in the dish rack.

Ryan sensed her disappointment that he didn't eat much of the dinner that she had made him. He smiled and patted the sofa. "Come on, Emmie, it was fine. Honest. I'm just not that hungry right now" he insisted. "Come sit down. I'll make you feel better."

She leaned her head on his shoulder as he held her close and caressed her hair. "Thanks."

"So it sounds like you're gonna be busy with the kids at the community center."

Her head on his shoulder, she looked up at him. "Actually, I'm gonna have to cut the community service to Wednesday evenings. Most of my weekends are gonna be busy for a while."

"How's that?"

"Just got the news this morning. My cousin Gwen in New York is getting married in July. They sort of asked me to be a bridesmaid."

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows at her. "They? Who's 'they'?"

"Well, Gwen emailed me and asked if I'd do it, but I have a feeling the family sort of wants me there. You know, me being an old widow and all that. I guess they get the feeling I'm left out of a lot of things." She shrugged. "But Gwen's a really good kid. Well, she's twenty-three now. She just graduated from college, and she's got her catch. So it looks like I can ride the corporate jet with the rest of the family for fittings and rehearsals."

"Twenty-three? That's pretty young." He then looked down at her. "Am I gonna be able to see you on the weekends?"

"Well, how would you feel about coming up to New York with us? The family blocked off a bunch of rooms, and they're paid for whether we use them or not. Think you could stand having your own private suite?"

Ryan smiled now. "Yeah. Sounds great." He softened his voice teasingly. "You and me get a little turn-down service, some champagne…."

She looked at him dryly. "Uh, no Ryan. You know the rules. You have your room, I have mine."

Tenderly he stroked her cheek with his finger. "I can dream, right?" Slowly he leaned down and kissed her, more deeply each time, and caressed her hair tenderly. Emmie wrapped her arms around him more firmly and caressed his back. Tenderly Ryan began to kiss her neck, his breathing deepening. This time she didn't shrink back when he eased his hand under her collar and kissed her bare shoulder. Emmie bit her lip. His kisses just felt so good.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered into her ear.

Emmie's breath quickened and she froze. Something deep inside tormented her, warning her that if she didn't give him what he wanted, he would leave her. His mouth on her shoulder just made her feel so sexy, so appreciated. She closed her eyes tightly. It had been years since any man had touched her like that. Not since the last time she got to sleep with Dex.

Since Emmie didn't answer, Ryan reached forward and unfastened her blouse, exploring her throat with his mouth, his hand on her bare ribcage. She didn't want to lead him on, but she didn't want to tease him either. Her body was begging for him, and he seemed to be responding, his breathing deepening. His hand had found the clasps of her bra and was about to undo them. Finally she caught herself.

"Ryan, please don't!" she cried out, squirming out of his grip and holding her blouse shut.

He looked at her in shock. "Did I do something wrong?"

Emmie closed her eyes tightly and turned away from him. "No. You didn't. I…."

He caught his breath. "What, then?"

Emmie hung her head as she buttoned up her blouse and tucked it back into her skirt. "Well…."

Passion was changing to frustration as he slapped the couch. "Emmie, what is it?"

She held her eyes shut as a thousand images flashed through her mind. She was a tease. Maybe she owed him for his being so nice to her. After all, this was sexually-charged Miami. It seemed like waiting for marriage was so one hundred years ago. He might leave her for somebody who wasn't so "difficult." No more pretending.

"Ryan I-I, well, I believe some things…should wait till marriage." She couldn't look at him, and the silence was deafening.

He sighed deeply. "Why didn't you tell me that? Then at least I'd know what to expect. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna marry you or something."

Without looking at him, she bolted up from the sofa. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I better just go."

He put his hand up after her. "Emmie, wait!" As his front door slammed, Ryan closed his eyes and hung his head. "Dammit!"

* * *

><p>Leaning against the lattice wall, her knees tucked to her chest, Emmie sat in the dark gazebo and stared blankly at the canal behind her parents' property. She thought about those young, thin, tanned, bikini-wearing women on the beaches. Those sleek, young lab techs sure seemed to get their fair share of glances, she thought. Why would Ryan wait for a big, tough, older former Marine? With her hand she felt that scar on her abdomen. She knew about Ryan's brief relationship with Natalia. He might go back to her. After all, Natalia didn't have scars.<p>

* * *

><p>Ryan tightened his lips furiously and put his hands on his head. Brilliant move, he thought. Why did he have to just move in on Emmie like that? And that crack about marriage? She was just so tall, so beautiful, so…different from everybody else! Around her he didn't have to prove himself. Now he'd probably scared her away. Humiliated her. Made her feel cheap.<p>

His hazel eyes wandered to the mirror on his bedroom wall. There was that scar above his eye. He knew his eyesight was getting worse. Alexx said he had that infection in his optic nerve. It wasn't his fault he'd taken that nail over his eye. Why would Emmie want to be stuck taking care of a blind cop? Hell, she could have a real man if she wanted to, he thought. After all, Rick Stetler was still trying to get her attention. He was powerful. And maybe he wasn't going blind.

* * *

><p>The girl watched the cursor, transfixed as it blinked on the blue screen. She shut out all the other sounds around her.<p>

"HELLO ANYBODY THERE"

Nothing.

"HELLO ANYBODY THERE" She typed again.

Nothing. She shrugged and was about to log off the terminal.

HELLO

The girl stiffened up. So this is how it works, she thought.

"WHO RU"

KEITH. WHO RU

"SAPHIRA"

NICE NAME. WHERE RU

The girl smiled and swung her dark brown hair over her shoulder. She'd tried other chat sites, but this one seemed, well, different.

"MIAMI, FLORIDA. WHERE RU"

VIENNA VIRGINIA STAYING WITH FRIENDS. MY PARENTS ARE IN MIAMI

"WOW"

THIS YOUR 1ST TIME ON THIS CHAT SITE SAPHIRA

"YA"

HOW OLD RU

Saphira smiled again.

"17"

ME2. RU ALONE?

"IM N THE CYBERCAFE."

Keith didn't respond for what seemed a long time. She just sort of stared at the blue screen.

PARENTS WITH YOU?

"NO"

GOT A PIC OF YOURSELF? RU ON FACEBOOK? MYSPACE?

"YA"

WHATS UR NAME?

"SAPHIRA CONSTANTINE. IM ON FACEBOOK."

The girl stared at the screen. Keith didn't type anything for a long time again. Was he checking out her Facebook page? Did she scare him away?

NICE PICS. GOT A COMPUTER HOME? AWAY FROM PARENTS?

"YA. IN MY ROOM."

GREAT. CU TOMORROW 8 PM.

"OK."

Keith didn't respond to any more of her questions. Finally she logged off the terminal, grabbed her blue purse, and walked out into the Florida dampness as she thought about tomorrow night.


	5. The Two Sides of Love

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5—The Two Sides of Love<strong>

Horatio peered into the microscope and then looked beside him at the clothes laid out on the work table. His troubled blue eyes studied the mud that had seeped into the otherwise neat clothes. That was all there was. No pulls or tears. No blood or biologicals. Nothing that would indicate a struggle. Nothing that would tell the CSI where Nicole might have been or where she might be now. Nothing to show whether she was even alive or dead. It frustrated him.

Maxine Valera was transfixed on the spectrometer when Horatio turned around to her. "Miss Valera. Find anything new?"

She turned around and reached for some printouts. "Ran the samples off both sets of clothes. Nicole Olson's clothes were washed and dried. Somebody was careful here."

"Yes, I know. Not even any DNA or skin tags. So nothing we can use right now?"

She pointed further down on the sheet. "The laundry detergent I got off the clothes? Hypoallergenic. No dyes or perfumes. No bleaches."

Horatio nodded thoughtfully. "So we might be dealing with someone who has an allergy."

"Possibly." She pointed to the sheet again. "Looks like they weren't the only one to use this washing machine. Traces of Linear ABS in different concentrations. Small traces of the blue dyes and perfumes. Not a lot, but just enough to show up. All the different brands of laundry detergents and fabric softeners have their own unique blends. A lot of these are your low-end bargain store brands. Must have been six or seven different blends."

He scanned the printout. Not much to go on, but something was better than nothing. "Possibly a shared washing machine. Like a dorm or a Laundromat."

She then handed him another printout. "Ran samples of the mud on Jane Doe's sneakers. I found microorganisms that weren't native to Florida. Or even the United States."

Emmie Stockburne stepped into the DNA lab. "Hey, Sir. Hey, Maxine."

"Miss Stockburne. Anything new on our Jane Doe?"

She nodded. "Her name is Liesel Matthews. Nineteen years old, a student at South Florida Tech. She had dual citizenship-American and Dutch. She didn't have a driver's license, at least an American one, so I ran the face recognition software against all the government agencies. Confirmed her U.S. and Dutch passports through the State Department."

He remembered what Maxine had told him about the sneakers. The pieces flew together in his head now. "Emmie, check and see whether Liesel's been out of the country recently."

"Two steps ahead of you, Sir. She and her mother are originally from Soesterberg Air Base. Customs says she and her mother flew from Miami to Amsterdam on Royal Dutch Airlines a month ago. They came back two weeks later."

"Anything on those IP addresses?"

"Untraceable from here, Sir. If it's okay, I'd like to talk to some of my old FBI contacts and see if they've had the same numbers come through their banks. They can tell me if there's been a pattern."

"Go ahead" Horatio agreed. "At this point it looks like the trail is going cold on Nicole Olson."

"Keep me posted on the Olson case. I'm going to check with Alexx. It's possible these two girls are part of the same case."

Alexx Woods had just slipped the card into the holder when Horatio stepped in. She looked up and recapped her pen. "Horatio?"

"Alexx, Emmie just confirmed that our Jane Doe is Liesel Matthews. What was her COD?"

Alexx opened the metal door and pulled out the table, gently uncovering the girl's ashen face. "Hypoxia and hypovolemic shock indirectly caused by the strangulation. She was raped at least once before that and then strangled, but she managed to break away somehow. But her attacker crushed her trachea, so that she wasn't getting enough oxygen or blood. She ran as hard as she could, but then she collapsed in the field." Alexx looked down at the sleeping face. "It was too late for you, Angel."

* * *

><p>"Emmie? How're you doing?"<p>

Emmie was transfixed on the screen when she heard a familiar voice. The computer tech turned around to find IAB agent Rick Stetler watching over her shoulder, hands in pockets. As usual he was standing uncomfortably close to her as he watched the screens.

She merely glanced at his reflection in the monitor and then continued with her work. He was wearing a blue shirt and a candy-striped tie this time. He probably never dressed that loudly when he was chasing Yelina, she thought. "I'm okay, Sir. Did you need something?"

Rick pulled up the chair and sat next to her. "Got a minute?"

Emmie feverishly clicked the computer keys while she listened. "What's on your mind?"

Rick pulled up a chair and sat down just inches from her as he usually did. He fought the urge to lean over and click off the monitor, anything to get her full attention. Satisfied that only Emmie could hear him, he held his hands together and gathered his thoughts. "You know, I never got to take you to the VIP Gala. And I feel like I should make it up to you somehow."

She stopped working and gave him her full attention. "Sir? That was six months ago." She studied him. He seemed serious.

"I know" he said sympathetically. "But I feel like I let you down."

"Sir, it's nobody's fault you had a skull fracture. I mean, a fax machine fell on your head."

Rick tightened his lips. The whole incident was still an embarrassment to him as well as to the County. But he couldn't let it throw him. "Maybe it was, but Wolfe shouldn't have had to fill in for me."

"If memory serves, he saved my life. By the way, thank you for making sure he got the unit citation for that."

He huffed. This was getting him nowhere. "Well I'd like to at least take you to dinner or something this Saturday night. They have the concert on the boardwalk. I know you like that."

"I appreciate the thought, Sir, but I'll be gone this weekend. I have to fly up to New York with the family. My cousin's getting married, and I'm going to be a bridesmaid."

He nodded, seemingly impressed. "Really? That's great. Well, how about next weekend?"

She shook her head. "Not sure yet. This is a society wedding, so I'm having to do a lot of politicking for the family. I may have to be gone then, too."

Rick nodded thoughtfully. "Can I at least take you to lunch one of these days? Maybe you can meet some of my associates."

Emmie shook her head. "Sir, please don't feel obligated. I appreciate your kindness, but Lieutenant Caine put a high priority on the Olson/Matthews case." With that she turned her attention back to the computer screens. "Anything else, Sir?"

The IAB agent gave her a hard look. "No." With that he stood up to leave.

* * *

><p>Rick huffed in frustration as he strode down the blue hallway. Some things were bothering him. Emmie hadn't had much to do with him before the VIP Gala, but she had really changed since then. Now she completely avoided him, going so far as to change directions in the hallway if she spotted him. She was much more secretive than ever about what she did in her off time, not even telling anyone else in the lab. The other lab techs were open books about their lives. Emmie was different.<p>

Ryan breathed deeply as he approached the computer lab. He hadn't spoken to Emmie since she had stormed out Saturday night. He wondered whether she was going to want to talk to him again. In all his years as a police officer, it seemed like few things knotted his stomach like having to apologize to Emmie. But he knew he had to.

Rick Stetler locked angry, frustrated eyes with the young CSI on his way to the elevator. Ryan glanced at him and then at the computer lab. Neither one of them spoke.

Ryan stopped just short of the computer lab. Emmie had her backed turned toward the door, typing feverishly, ignoring the world. Quietly he crept into the lab.

"Emmie?" he said quietly.

Demurely she dipped her head, never looking at him. "Hi Ryan" she whispered.

"I'm really sorry about Saturday."

She lowered her head with a sad smile. "Thanks. Me too."

He nodded toward the doorway. "What did Stetler want?"

The computer tech sniffed. "Oh. Audit time. He wanted my budget files. I told him I was on a deadline and would run them up the end of the day."

Ryan nodded. Somehow he felt like that wasn't what Rick had wanted. One thing at a time, though. "Can we talk later?"

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"I'll call you this evening" he said as he walked out, more sure of himself now.


	6. Not What It Looks Like

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6—Not What It Looks Like<strong>

A drop of perspiration fell on Emmie's handwritten notes with a POP! Florida's humidity had made the inside of her Blazer stiflingly uncomfortable. But something was holding her back. She had taught computer classes before, but never to high school girls. They weren't much younger than the Marines or sailors she had taught, she tried to reason to herself. But that was so long ago, and there was something so different about this.

No matter. She didn't get to be a leader by living by her feelings, Emmie reminded herself. Taking a deep breath, she stuffed her notes into her folder and grabbed her toolcase.

She slipped into the computer library. Two girls sat at a back terminal, totally unaware of her presence. She could see that one had tumbling light blonde hair, and the other had reddish brown hair. They were pointing to the monitor and giggling.

"Oh my God! You believe that?" one of them gasped.

"Ew! He's a pig! How could you talk to this guy?"

Emmie cleared her throat and set her toolcase down rather loudly. At the sound, both girls quickly whipped their heads around. The brown-haired girl quickly clicked off the screen. "Oh, hi!"

She tipped her head up in suspicion. Anytime somebody minimized the screen like that and feigned innocence, something was going on, she thought. But she would deal with that later. "Hi." She glanced at the roster. "You're Reagan and Saphira?"

The girls glanced at each other. "Saphira" the brown-haired girl said as she put up her hand.

"Reagan" the blonde girl said. "Rae is fine."

Emmie walked through the maze of terminals and shook hands with each of them cordially. "I'm Emmie Stockburne. I'll be here every Wednesday evening. I'm a computer tech at the Miami-Dade Police Department." She pulled up an office chair and sat next to her student at the blank monitor screen. "Well, since it's gonna be just us, why don't I just sit here so we don't have to yell across the room at each other?" She nodded at the screen. "So how well do you girls know your way around the internet?"

Saphira glanced hesitantly at the screen behind her. "Pretty good."

"Ever done anything on Office or Mac?"

"Can do a book report on Word, if that's what you're talking about" Reagan said.

"How about your XP and Vista? Can you load and unload programs pretty well? Know your hardware and how it works? Maintain a disk and a flash drive?"

The girls glanced at each other and nodded at every question. Emmie watched their eyes. Somehow it seemed like they were hiding something. "Well, looks like you girls were on the internet."

Reagan and Saphira looked at one another and then at their mentor. "We were just looking around" Saphira assured her.

"Yeah. Just looking at shoes" Reagan agreed.

Emmie just nodded.

The computer tech just stared at the glass doorway minutes after the girls had walked out, their bags slung over their shoulders. She then turned her attention to the monitor that Saphira had been using and clicked the keyboard. At some point during the class, one of them had cleared the internet history. Undaunted, she quickly searched the hard drive. The history came right back to life.

"HEY KEITH. GOT RAE WITH ME. GOT A MINUTE TILL CLASS STARTS."

HEY SAPHIRA. RAE. GLAD U2 COULD MAKE IT.

"WHAT R U DOING?"

EATING A CHERRY POPSICLE. U LIKE POPSICLES?

"THEYRE OK."

HOW ABOUT PINK POPSICLES?

"HUH?"

I GOT A PINK POPSICLE. THIS ONE'S SPECIAL. IT WONT MELT IN YOUR MOUTH. OR YOUR HAND. SPECIAL KIND. CREAM FILLED.

Emmie closed her eyes and sighed. "Dammit! Are these girls ever gonna learn?" Then it occurred to her. She immediately clicked the keyboard again and read the server's IP history.

Untraceable. Just like Nicole Olson.

It was just a hunch. Immediately she pulled out her scanning drive and plugged it into the console. She punched in her code and watched carefully. As the monitor screen flashed numbers, she then took out her cell phone.

"Hey, Sir. It's Emmie Stockburne. Remember how we were looking for a deterrent for these kids who go into these chatrooms? Well, I think I have an idea."

* * *

><p>Ryan silently cleaned his 9 millimeter, sure to get every crevice, just like he always did. It took his mind off the fact that he and Emmie had barely spoken since the weekend.<p>

A knock at his front door startled him. He slapped the magazine back into the weapon and laid it down before opening his front door.

"Emmie?"

Her heart pounded as she looked at him hopefully. "Hi, Ryan."

His whole world perked up. He guided her in by one arm. Not sure what else to do, he just held her. "What are you doing here?"

"Is it okay?"

He simply held her for a few minutes, rubbing her back tenderly. "I'm sorry, Emmie" he finally whispered.

Emmie rested her head on his shoulder, fighting tears. It just felt so wonderful to have him hold her again. "I'm sorry too, Ryan. I don't like when we fight." With her short nails she very gently scratched his back.

He moaned and breathed deeply as he relaxed his grip around her waist. "Mmmmm. I missed that." Ryan wanted to feel her again. But most of all, he just wanted to feel her trust in him as she laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Emmie" he whispered again.

Emmie didn't answer. She just closed her eyes and took in the sensation of his love as she just held onto him now.

Finally Ryan released her. "You hungry? You had dinner yet?"

"I'm good."

He sat down on the couch and patted it. "Well, come on. Sit down. How'd your class go?"

"Not too bad. Couple of girls, Reagan and Saphira. They're friends from the high school." She dipped her head now.

Ryan recognized that look. "What is it?"

She sighed. "Ryan, I…. I just had a hunch. Just before I came in, they'd been on the same chat site that Nicole Olson was on."

"And Liesel Matthews, probably."

Emmie looked at him in shock. "What?"

He nodded at her. "Horatio and I talked to the parents today. Same thing. Spent all her free time on line, away from them. Took off the day before Nicole."

She looked away from him. "Great."

"Brought in Liesel's computer. You're gonna have to analyze it. And you're gonna have to talk to Alexx tomorrow. If this is a serial killer, we're all gonna be pulling a lot of overtime."

"I know. Thanks." Emmie tiredly leaned her head on Ryan's strong shoulder again. She looked up at him. She could sense when something was bothering him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just wish you'd tell me what Stetler really wanted with you in there."

She shrugged. "My files. Annual audit."

He looked down at her. "I saw the look on his face. Stetler looked like he was begging. He doesn't do that when he wants your audit files."

With a groan, Emmie sat back on the couch. "Okay, Mr. CSI. He told me he was sorry that he couldn't take me to the VIP Gala and feels like he should take me out to dinner or something."

"And?"

"I told him I'd be flying up to New York and to forget about what happened."

"New York, huh?" He smiled now. "Is that room still open for me?"

"Sure. Let me just call my folks." She couldn't help but notice how he looked at her. "Ryan, what is it?"

He sighed like something else was bothering him. "Oh. Nothing."

Emmie reached forward and grasped his hand. It frustrated her. "Ryan? Whatever it is, you have nothing to worry about."


	7. The Grass Is Not Always Greener

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I would like to thank Mummacass, ajay1960, and EmiliaDelko for your kind comments and reviews.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7—The Grass Is Not Always Greener<strong>

Delko motioned with a gloved finger at the printed page as Ryan looked on.

"H found some kind of fertilizer mix on Nicole Olson's backpack. Must have been home made. Wasn't the same as any of the brands you'd find in the local nurseries or hardware stores." He handed the page to Ryan. "Not a very good mix, either. High concentration of phosphorus."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Wow! You put this stuff on your plants, you'll burn them. Ammonium oxide and phosphorus are key ingredients in bomb making. Oklahoma City? 1995? Timothy McVeigh was able to get these ingredients at a local feed store. Killed two hundred sixty-eight people. Emmie and Tyler tracked down purchases of fertilizer chemicals and cross-referenced them with the internet traffic last Friday and Saturday. Emmie could only estimate those IP addresses, since those anonymizers keep changing numbers." He clicked keys at the lab's computer. "Got a hit on a Chip Melton. He works part-time at the Florida Institute of Computer Sciences." He laid a page down in front of Delko.

Delko smirked. "Looks like our guy has a bit of an attitude. Says University of Miami suspended him a few years ago. Something about overthrowing the government."

"And take a look at these priors. Transporting explosive materials and obtaining property under false pretenses. Couple that with some mail fraud and statutory rape."

"Think Tripp and I can go over there and see if Chip's been trying to pick up some sweet young things on the web."

Like everyone else, Delko noticed that Ryan didn't hide his feelings very well when he mentioned Emmie. His hazel eyes always lit up.

Ryan glared at him. "What?"

"You and Emmie seeing each other?" he finally asked.

"No!"

Delko wasn't convinced. Ryan hesitated. He knew Emmie didn't want anyone to know. He glanced around. "Well, we dated a little, but…."

"But what?"

He shrugged with a smile now. "It didn't work out. You know. She's kind of…."

Delko watched him. "Kind of what?"

Ryan knew he'd said too much. "I don't know. She's a little too, I don't know, old-fashioned, and doesn't believe in, well, you know, so we just kind of broke it off" he stammered.

"You serious?" he said with that boyish grin. "So you wanted some love and Emmie told you to go take a cold shower, huh?"

Ryan shrugged and grinned tensely. He hoped this would blow over. "No! Well yeah. What can I say? I'm a guy, right? So I told her we can still be friends if she wants."

Delko looked at the case in front of him while smiling. "Emmie? Who'da thought? She looks so….I don't know."

Ryan began to sweat. "Hey, she's not that bad."

"Yeah? Well then why'd you dump her?"

Ryan knew he was going to be in trouble if Emmie found out. He just picked up a brown case file. "Well hey, I gotta go check with Valera on something."

Delko smirked. "See ya, man."

* * *

><p>Hands on their weapons, Frank and Ryan quietly approached the small blue house. It obviously hadn't been painted in a long time. With his shoe, Frank kicked one of the many bald patches on the lawn.<p>

"Doesn't look like anybody used any fertilizer on _this_ lawn" Ryan observed.

"Yeah, well, let's just make sure he's not using it for something else."

Ryan stood by, hand still on weapon, as Frank pounded on the door. "Chip Melton! Miami-Dade Police!"

Seconds later the red, faded door opened. A young, thin man in a black tank top and cutoff jeans looked at them expectantly. He had stringy blonde hair, pockmarked skin, and razor stubble. It was obvious that he hadn't bathed in days and didn't see why he should have to. He looked at them like they had interrupted something important. "I'm Chip Melton. Something I can do for you, Officers?" he said, rather annoyed.

"We're doing a homicide investigation. Know anything about some girls in the area disappearing?" Frank asked, not concerned about the young man's mood.

"I heard about it."

"Yeah? One of them was online just before she disappeared to a computer with some IP addresses we traced to your house.

He sniffed and shook his head. "Hey, wait a minute. That wasn't me."

"Where were you last Friday and Saturday?"

"Working." He nodded back toward his dark living room. "I design web pages. Got a deadline I'm working on. I don't have time to play games with girls."

"We know about the sixteen-year-old, Chip. Or maybe you've been busy making bomb components again?" Ryan said. "We checked your bank records, Chip. How's a guy like you buy fertilizer with a credit card?"

"Fixing up my yard, okay?"

Frank sneered. "Yeah, HGTV was just here. You know it's a violation of your probation to have that stuff in your possession, and if we find out you've been making bomb components again, you won't have to worry about your yard anymore. In fact, you're gonna be the girl. So you won't object to us just having a look around?"

The young man shrugged and backed in from the doorway. "Suit yourselves."

Cautiously Frank and Ryan crept in. The house was small, older and dark. Old sheets and pillowcases covered the small, dusty windows. Computer equipment and stacks of wires filled one corner of the small living room. There were stacks of CD's and computer publications on a scratched brown table.

Ryan motioned toward the computer. "Okay if I take a look at your computer?"

Chip Melton held his hand up. "Yeah. But be careful, okay? I got three years' worth of work on there."

"I just want to know if you've been on any chat programs."

"Nope. Take a look."

While Frank sorted through drawers and closets, Ryan sat down and clicked computer keys, looking through the computer's history. Emmie had taught him how to sort through a computer's history. He shook his head.

"Told you" Chip Melton said, standing behind him.

Frank stepped out into the back yard. He squinted in the brightness of what looked like a brand new concrete slab. "Hey Chip. When did you put the new patio in?"

"Couple of weeks ago. I'm gonna build an addition on this house."

"Building permit?"

"Gonna apply for it next week. I just laid the foundation. Don't need the permit for that."

Frank motioned toward Ryan.

"Find anything, Wolfe?"

"Nah. Nothing."

"Yeah? Take a look at this concrete slab. Guy says he's gonna put in an addition. Slab's out in the middle of the yard. Doesn't look like he's got enough room in the yard to expand the house."

"Patio maybe?" Ryan asked.

Frank smirked. "Take a look at that guy. Got sheets over all the windows. He's paler than a ghost. Why's he gonna suddenly start going outside?"

Ryan studied the edges of the slab. The dirt around the edge had a strange whiteness to it.

"See something?"

Ryan bent down and tried to pry the edge of the slab with his fingers. "Cheap grade of concrete, but it looks legit."

"Yeah, well, I'm not buying it" Frank asserted. He looked at the young computer tech who stood in the doorway. "Hey, Chip. Where's the fertilizer you mixed?"

"Donated some to the college and used some here in the back yard."

"Yeah, well, you used way too much phosphorus. You're killing your grass. Better hire an expert. Don't go too far, there."

Satisfied there was nothing that would allow them to get a warrant, Frank and Ryan walked back to the Hummer.

"So what do you think?" Tripp wanted to know.

Ryan looked at him and then glanced back at the yard. "Don't know. He's a dirtball, but I didn't see anything. We better just watch him. I'm gonna have Emmie keep a tracker on his computer." He sighed deeply now.

"What is it?"

Ryan closed his eyes and leaned back. He hoped that word wouldn't get to Emmie about what he had said to Delko. That could be far more dangerous, he thought.


	8. How Can I Not Love You?

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8—How Can I Not Love You?<strong>

School administrators. PTA members. Concerned city and county officials. The group that faced them tried to look unimpressed and professional, but Alexx and Emmie could see the agitation on their faces. Most of them had never been in a morgue before. Emmie cleared her throat.

"Good morning. Thank you for being here. My name is Emmie Stockburne. I'm a cybertechnician here with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. I'm also a former FBI cybercrimes expert. I've spent a good portion of my career tracking online predators. In my years here and with the FBI Cybercrimes Unit, I've seen probably hundreds of boys or girls assaulted, murdered, or missing when they agree to meet someone they've been chatting online with. The average victim is a teenage girl, age twelve to eighteen. She will have been carrying on the relationship for anywhere from one month to one year. It starts innocently enough. There might be some flirting online, some back-and-forth chat about school, or maybe the girl is just lonely. Her parents might be divorced, she might have pressure at school, or broken up with a boyfriend. Either way, the other person is willing to listen when nobody else is. Many people think online chatting is just harmless fun. Well, today you're here to see one result of this so-called harmless fun. With me is Dr. Alexx Woods, the crime lab's forensic pathologist." She dipped her head toward the white sheet as the crowd of counselors and school administrators looked on now. "Here we have Liesel Matthews. Liesel was nineteen years old, and a freshman at South Florida University. She was born in the Netherlands and came to the United States when her mother married an American servicemember. Like many girls her age, Liesel enjoyed chatting online. Unfortunately, she was lured in by one of these predators. I read the files from her chats from the last six months. I was able to confirm that she was carrying on a relationship with a man who called himself Gareth, who told her that he was a young professional here in the Miami area." She never looked at Alexx. "Liesel Matthews was found dead shortly after she went to meet Gareth. Dr. Woods performed the autopsy on Liesel Matthews. Dr. Woods?"

Silently Alexx flipped back the sheet, revealing Liesel's ashen sleeping face. Immediately, their audience began to turn their heads, cover their faces, or weep. One older woman hurried out of the room. Alexx paid no attention.

"You can see from the marks on her neck that Liesel was strangled with bare hands. The bruises on her wrist indicate that she struggled with her attacker. By performing a sexual assault exam post-mortem, I've been able to confirm that Liesel was raped at least once before her death. Evidence shows that her attacker wore a condom, so there's no way our lab was able to pick up any DNA samples. "We believe she somehow escaped from her attacker shortly before she died. We found one of her sneakers in a field out by the causeway. Emmie?"

Emmie didn't wait for the murmurs of fear and shock to die down before she spoke again. "Thank you Dr. Woods."

Alexx gently laid the sheet over Liesel's sleeping face.

"Right now we have one girl in the Miami area confirmed dead and another missing because of an online predator. So far I've been able to determine that he goes by the name of Gareth or Jason. He's been seen at the Southland Mall. He's a computer expert who knows how to cover his tracks. Know that we're doing everything we can to catch this guy, but it's important that you know the dangers as well. Parents, teachers, and counselors are the first line of defense against online predators. Know what your children are doing. Know who they're talking to and when. And above all, make sure they know never to send any pictures or personal information to strangers. We don't know who this guy is, and neither do your children. Thank you."

* * *

><p>As she flipped through the case file at the silver table, she was aware of a presence behind her.<p>

"Emmie? Got a minute?" Ryan asked quietly.

She didn't turn her head. "What's going on, Ryan?"

Ryan watched her, knowing she wasn't going to be in a cheery mood. "You okay?"

She still kept her back toward him, her head down. "I don't know yet, Ryan. I've been hearing rumors, but I figure I'd better go straight to the source, because we both know how people talk around here."

"What about?"

"Did you break up with me because I wouldn't give you something for your headache?"

Ryan closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He was afraid of this. "Look, I screwed up, okay? Some people asked me if we were seeing each other, and I just told them we weren't. I did it because you didn't want anybody to know. Come on, Emmie. Look at me."

She kept her back turned. "Why?"

"It was an accident." He crept up to her, looking at the papers on the work table to make it look like they were discussing a case. "I couldn't think of anything else to say. If I could go back and undo it, I would, okay? I'm sorry."

Emmie just quietly nodded. "Thank you." But she couldn't help it. She turned toward him, only to see him look at her with those puppydog eyes. It was so hard for her to be mad when he did that.

"We still on for this weekend?" he asked.

"Sure."

He just nodded and walked out with his hands in his pockets. It was probably best to just leave it at that, he thought.

* * *

><p>"Hey Emmie."<p>

Emie glanced around the otherwise empty computer library. "Hi Saphira. Is Rae joining us this evening?"

"Said she couldn't make it. Said she had an appointment."

The computer tech nodded. "I see. Well, I'll just give her a few minutes before we get started, okay?"

The girl turned toward her station. "Yeah, whatever."

Emmie simply opened her laptop and adjusted the wireless routing as she sat next to her student. It didn't escape her attention that Saphira was looking at the wallpaper picture of Ryan. "Who's that?"

She smiled sadly. "Oh, uh, that's my boyfriend."

"He's hot."

"Thanks. His name is Ryan."

"He's your sweet stuff, huh?"

Emmie furrowed her eyebrows at the girl. "My what? My sweet stuff?"

Saphira smiled proudly now. "Yeah. It's a classic song by The Mary Jane Girls. 'I'll be your sugar in the morning and the sweet stuff you need at night.' What's the matter? You guys have a fight or something?"

Emmie looked at Saphira, not sure what to say. She wasn't comfortable opening up her heart, especially not to a teenage girl she had the responsibility to instruct. But Saphira could read her. She turned around in her chair and folded her arms. "I broke up with this one guy. He was cute too, but he was a real ass. He was more in love with himself than anything. I told him he should be dating a mirror. That Ryan?"

Emmie smiled distantly and looked at the picture. "Ryan's not like that at all." She finally sighed and lowered her head. This girl had her number, and she knew it. "No, he's like you say. Sweet. I guess the problem is, well…. I don't know what the problem is."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course I do."

"Does he love you?"

Emmie smiled and nodded confidently. "Yes, he does."

"He's not an ass?"

The computer tech smiled. "No. I mean, he has his moments, but who doesn't?"

"So what's wrong?"

Emmie shook her head. She was fighting a losing battle with this girl. "Must be nice when life's so simple. I honestly don't know what's wrong. We've been dating for almost a year, but I just get the feeling like he's holding something back or scared of something."

"Why don't you ask him?"

She was serious. This girl couldn't have known about marriage or trust, or the things that just seem to happen to adults along the way, Emmie thought.

"Only way you're gonna find out, right?"

She sighed deeply and looked at the door, eager to change the subject. "Well, I guess Rae's not showing up, so we better get started. Wonder what kind of appointment she's got this late in the evening."

"Don't know. She hasn't called me all week. I think she's seeing some guy. She's been coming to school with a lot of new stuff."

Emmie raised her eyebrows. "Really? Any idea how long she's been seeing this guy?"

"I guess a couple of weeks."

"Saphira, do you know who this guy is?"

"She won't tell me."

"I see. Tell you what." She paused. "Tell you what." She finally took out one of her business cards. "If you need anything, or if Rae needs anything, I want you to call me."

She looked at Emmie's card and shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

Emmie looked at her with serious eyes. "You understand, Saphira? Give me a call. Now we better get started."


	9. He Loves Me Not

**Chapter 9—He Loves Me Not**

Horatio met Emmie in the blue hallway as she was looking through the morning files. "Morning, Sir" she said, looking up from the brown folders.

"Morning Miss Stockburne." He looked almost troubled now. "Any new leads in the Olson or the Matthews cases?"

She shook her head sadly. "Afraid not. FBI is helping me, but they don't have a lot to go on."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I'm afraid if we don't find something soon, we'll have two cold cases and a serial stalker who is still out there."

"I understand. Although, if you give me permission, I can track the activity on the particular chat sites that Nicole Olson and Liesel Matthews were on."

The Lieutenant looked at her quizzically now. "My permission?"

Reaching into her toolcase, she produced a scratched but official-looking CD jewel case. "Data mining program called Witness. Old FBI surplus that I bought just before I left Birmingham. Just a little more sophisticated than what we have here. Anonymous IP addresses have certain numbers in them that Witness will pick up right away. I can then set the software to track the chat sites I know this guy's been using. This way I can at least establish a pattern. Better than nothing. The downside is, the data I collect on this software is like a DNA sample. I'm gonna need something to match it to. And anything I collect off this is admissible in a court of law." She shrugged matter-of-factly. "It's just because I need your permission to use outside software."

Horatio nodded and smiled understandably. "You have my permission. Download that software and start tracking."

As Emmie stepped into the lab, she stopped.

Blocking her view of the computer lab was huge green vase with a dozen long-stemmed red roses. The ornate vase was tied with a burgundy bow and sat on top of her desk. Not sure what to do, she just stared.

Tyler smiled knowingly, never taking his eyes off the monitor. "Hey. You must've made somebody pretty happy."

_Oh my God! Ryan, you didn't have to do this._

Emmie put down her black toolcase and walked over, simply staring at the ornate vase, her eyes following every sleek stem and the baby's breath that decorated the bouquet. This was magnificent.

"Not your birthday or something, is it?"

Emmie shook her head, still staring at the prize on her desk. She loved roses. She reached out and caressed the soft, dark red petals with her fingers. A million scenarios went through her head.

"Well come on. Who's it from?"

"Hang on." She unwrapped the lavender card and unfolded it.

_Emmie-  
>Congratulations on the presentation with Dr. Woods. The department is pleased with your work. Please accept this arrangement as a token of my appreciation. I will stop by and chat with you some more. –R Stetler<em>

Her heart sank.

"Everything okay?" Tyler wanted to know, glancing up from his work.

She took a deep breath to dispel the disappointment. "Everything's fine, Tyler" she snapped, warning him that it might be wise to just drop the subject. This wasn't the kind of bouquet that said to a senior cybertech 'Congratulations for a job well done.' More like 'I really want to date you, and this is just a convenient excuse for sending you flowers and making you feel guilty if you refuse me.' The sick feeling changed to guilt and then anger. She wanted to drop it in the trash. But a dozen long-stemmed roses in such a beautiful vase?

Curious CSI's and lab techs were already staring at the huge prize on her desk and wondering why she wasn't glowing. Instead she picked up the huge arrangement and placed it in an empty storage cabinet under the computer table. Tyler watched out of the corner of his eye, knowing better than to ask her anything else.

She then scooped up the stack of brown case files that she and Tyler had finished. "I'm gonna go ahead and take these out myself. Be back in a few minutes."

As she stood in front of the elevator doors, her mind raced. Couldn't Rick just leave her alone?

The elevator doors parted. Immediately she turned and started back down the hallway.

IAB agent Rick Stetler stepped out of the elevator and put up his finger. "Emmie? Wait a minute!" He followed her down the hallway, his blue paisley tie trailing behind him. "I need to speak with you!"

She stopped and drew a deep breath, looking down at the stack of case folders in her arms. "Can I help you, Sir?"

Hands on hips, Rick approached her. "I just wanted to know if you got my message."

She nodded, never glancing up. "I did."

"Maybe you have some free time at lunch today? I know you've been busy with those two cases."

"Can't. By the way, thanks very much for the flowers." With that she quickly walked away.

Rick opened his mouth to say something, but by that time she was safely out of his range. He simply put his hands in his pockets and watched her disappear around the corner. Just like she did every time.

* * *

><p>Reagan gasped and curled her fingers when the lightning flashed outside her bedroom window. That one was especially close. She cringed and covered her head when the thunder crashed, drowning out her cursing. Still cringing, she sat at her computer and waited for that one to pass. She knew she shouldn't be on the computer right now, but this was very important.<p>

"I HATE THUNDER & LIGHTNING"

WISH I COULD BE THERE 2 HOLD U.

*GIGGLES*

As her phone chirped, she picked it up and glanced at the caller ID. She then hit the button. "Hey."

"Hey Rae. It's Saph. Where you been?"

"Busy."

Silence.

"Busy with who?"

"None of your business!" she snapped.

"Rae, come on! I thought we were friends!" Saphira argued.

"Yeah, we are! Look, I can't talk right now. See you in school, okay?" With that she clicked off her phone and shoved it into her purse.

"HEY"

EVERYTHING OK?

"YA. PHONE CALL."

PARENTS?

"NO JUST A FRIEND OF MINE."

IM STILL W8ING.

"W8ING 4 WHAT?"

THAT PICTURE OF U. U PROMISED ME.

Reagan hesitated.

PLEASE?

"IDK. WHAT ABOUT THAT ONE I GAVE U LAST WK?"

I WANT U TO TAKE OFF UR TOP. I WANT TO LOOK AT U EVERY NITE B4 I GO TO BED. THIS WAY I CAN TOUCH THOSE BUTIFL BRSTS OF URS, EVEN IF ITS ONLY IN MY IMAGINATION.

Reagan shook her head.

PLEASE? REMEMBER THE STUFF I BOUGHT U?

Adrenaline shot through her. She glanced at the beautiful silver watch on her hand and the ring. Maybe she really owed him this. But what if he were to show it to someone?

"U WONT TELL ANYONE, WILL U?"

NEVER. UR 2 BEAUTIFUL 2 SHARE WITH ANYBODY RAE. IT'LL BE R LITTLE SECRET, I PROMISE. MAKE SURE U SMILE 4 ME.

The girl swallowed nervously as she wiggled out of her tank top and unhooked her bra and hesitantly laid them on the desk next to the computer. Taking out her cell phone, she feigned a smile as she snapped a picture of herself. She then put her bra and her tank top back on before plugged her phone into the computer and clicking the keyboard. The screen stayed silent for what seemed an eternity.

BEAUTIFUL. U SHOULD POSE FOR PLAYBOY.

"U SWEAR U WON'T TELL ANYBODY?"

OUR LITTLE SECRET. I PROMISE.


	10. The Wolfe Guarding the Henhouse

**Contains minor spoilers for "Burned" and "Death Eminent"**

**Chapter 10—The Wolfe Guarding the Henhouse**

The _Feuille d'Argent_ was a high-end, elegant bridal salon that catered to society families. For a price, the bride and the wedding party would have all their needs and arrangements taken care of while being kept as comfortable as possible considering the stress and family politics. The waiting area was done up to look like a European spa with brown marble walls and thick tapestry curtains. The air was saturated with mint and sandalwood from aromatherapy candles and spa music piped from hidden speakers. Here clients could sip plenty of cappuccino, mineral water, wine, or sodas and eat Godiva chocolates or dried fruit snacks out of candy dishes while waiting for their fittings, hairstyles, manicures or pedicures. In the end it was a henhouse, plain and simple. Now the women of the Stockburne and Parr clans lounged on sofas and chaises in plush white spa robes and sandals while reading magazines, sharing gossip about husbands and boyfriends, or lying back with eyes closed.

It was here that Ryan sat next to Emmie with little else to do except check messages at the crime lab. He was clearly uncomfortable as he leaned forward and glanced at his cell phone and his eyes darted around. He turned up his nose at the cappuccino and candy dishes. Woman food.

Bride-to-be Gwen Parr, her fingers spread out daintily to dry her French manicure, finally nodded at Ryan, wanting to make him feel comfortable. "Emmie? Who's the gentleman with you?"

A proud smile crossed her face. "Everybody, I want you to meet my boyfriend Ryan" she said proudly as she put her hand on his shoulder. Ryan's a crime scene investigator in Miami and also a police officer. He's just up here for the weekend." She then turned to her family. "Ryan, this is my mother, my cousin Gwen. She's the bride. Then there's Kayla and Catherine, and Elise, and, I'm sorry, I don't remember everybody's names. I don't make it up here too often."

Ryan smiled and put his hand up. "That's okay. I'll get to know everybody" he said politely over the giggles, the whispers and the polite greetings. Ryan could tell that Emmie's young cousins were fascinated with him.

Emmie turned around when her father stepped into the salon. "Oh, hi Dad."

Frank Stockburne nodded politely. "Ladies. Just dropping off something. And I thought Ryan might like to come over to the cigar bar for a little gentlemanly talk." He put a firm hand on the young CSI's shoulder. "Come on, Ryan. Wanna get out of this estrogen jungle?" he whispered.

He smiled. "Sure." As he stood up, he gave Emmie a gentle kiss amid a chorus of "Aww's" and sighs. "I'll see you back at the hotel, Emmie."

"Okay, Sweet Stuff."

Just a short distance away, a camera phone clicked and was discreetly put away.

He waved behind him at the choruses of "Bye, Ryan!"

* * *

><p>Ryan sighed and looked at the empty plates on the table as he leaned his head back. Emmie leaned her head on his shoulder and patted his stomach. "Full?"<p>

He smiled. "Think so. Let's see. Prime rib, glazed asparagus, red potatoes, and some funny-looking dessert. Not bad for a guy who's used to eating on the run."

Emmie now sighed and rubbed her bare feet. "So I got my first fitting for my bridesmaid's gown. Those shoes are uncomfortable. So did you have fun with my dad and my cousins?"

"Yeah, he took me over to one of those cigar bars. I don't smoke cigars, but I chatted with some of your family."

She sampled the air. "You still smell like cigars."

Ryan tugged at his shirt. Much as he enjoyed himself, that cigar smoke had set off his OCD tendencies. "Guess I should've taken a shower."

"My family really likes you."

Ryan looked down at her. "Yeah. They're nice, for…well…."

"A bunch of snobby rich folk?" she asked with a grin.

"Nah, they're not snobby. Just I've never met people like that who are still alive. They've usually been shot, stabbed, drowned, poisoned, or blown up."

By now it was close to eleven at night. It didn't escape Ryan that Emmie was nodding off against his strong shoulder. He gently bumped her head with his shoulder and caressed her cheek with his finger. "I think somebody's tired." As she arched her back and yawned, he stretched and yawned himself. "Actually sounds like a good idea."

"Okay, well, I guess we better get to sleep. See you in the morning." Emmie was about to step into her own bedroom when Ryan had slipped under the sateen covers of his bed. He now held back the covers on one side and smiled as he patted the mattress. "Come on."

She furrowed her eyebrows at him. He was dressed. But what if?

"Emmie, I promise I won't do anything, okay? Will you trust me?"

She crawled into the bed next to him where he wrapped the duvet and his strong arms around her and kissed the top of her head. She smiled and rested her head against his pink tee shirt.

"See? Isn't this better?" he whispered.

Emmie looked up at him. "So you're not gonna want to?"

"Every time I look at you I want to."

Sleepily she smiled and rested her head against his strong bicep as he reached over and turned off the light.

The room was dark and silent except for the glow of Manhattan and the traffic below them.

"So you like my family, huh?" she finally whispered.

"Yeah. They're nice. Nice of them to put me up here."

"Well, my dad blocked off these rooms until my cousin's wedding, so they're paid for whether you're here or not." Emmie lay with her eyes closed in the crook of Ryan's arm, enjoying the warmth and protection, but she could feel that he wasn't really resting.

"Go ahead. Ask" she whispered.

"Ask what?"

Am I gonna get anything when both my parents are gone?"

"I didn't say anything." He then sighed. "Well, do you?"

Emmie smiled. "I guess I can tell you. But this time you won't say anything to anyone?"

"This time I won't say anything. Besides, everybody thinks I broke up with you, so don't worry about it."

"I'm one of those spoiled-rotten, lazy, good-for-nothing trust fund kids. I don't know all the details, but when my sisters and I reach a certain age, we get a little something from the family's estate."

"Just for being a Stockburne?"

"Yes and no. The trust fund has some kind of clean-and-sober clause, as we call it. I don't know all the details, but I have to prove that I'm living a stable life and giving something back to the world, sort of. I can't be one of those party girls that goes clubbing every night and blows the money on stupid stuff." She looked up at him in the darkness. "Funny. My family used to be mad at me because I ran off to join the Marine Corps, but now my parents told me that my Marine Corps and FBI service definitely count. I heard rumors that I have to be married to be eligible. Both my sisters are married, but I'm widowed. Not my fault."

Ryan nodded and looked up at the ceiling in the darkness. He'd seen the looks in her family's faces, and he was sure that she'd seen it too. There was this subtle pressure for them to be married so she could live happily ever after and make some Stockburne-Wolfe heirs.

Emmie reached up and kissed his cheek. "Night, Sweet Stuff."

He kissed her hair as he held her tightly. "See you in the morning."

* * *

><p>It was late, but IAB agent Rick Stetler couldn't sleep. The latest investigation had him working plenty of overtime, and he'd downed several pots of coffee just to function. Now he sat at his table and clicked on his scratched old silver laptop. Emmie had just added more gigabytes to the memory, so it was running faster.<p>

_Emmie…._

Just out of boredom, he typed "Stockburne" into the search bar on his laptop and hit the return key. The usual web pages popped up—the Stockburne Holdings official website, some FBI news tidbits from years ago. Something new caught his attention. He clicked on the blue link.

This was some New York Society blogger he didn't recognize.

_As summer wedding season rolls around, the Stockburne and Parr families were gathered at the Feuille d'Argent Bridal Salon in anticipation of Gwendolyn Parr's marriage this summer. Details are sketchy at this point. Even disgraced former socialite Emmalyn Stockburne, youngest daughter of Frank and Abigail Stockburne, is rumored to be the oldest bridesmaid of the wedding party. Emmalyn, who lives in Miami, has been seen around town with a Miami-Dade police officer on her arm. Looks like this Stockburne girl likes 'em young. _

"Huh?"

Staring back at him was a picture of Ryan giving her a tender goodbye kiss. The caption read _Stockburne heiress Emmalyn with current boyfriend Ryan Wolfe_.

It made sense now. No wonder she'd been avoiding him and spurning his attention. Frustrated and angry, Rick sat back and glanced around his living room. He remembered his colleague's words.

_Everybody knows you want to move up, Stetler. You should've gotten that last promotion. I'm just telling you. All the good ones have wives who know how to play the game._

He knew he couldn't lean on Ryan, at least not legally. The no-fraternization rule applied only to police officers. Emmie was a lab tech.

That's okay, he thought. He knew CSI Wolfe and his tendency to make some pretty big mistakes. There was the gambling incident. Disclosure of an ongoing case to Erica Sykes. Rick was going to bide his time and keep an eye out. Ryan would eventually make another mistake. He would get fired for good or do something to upset Emmie or her prominent society family, he reasoned. And when he did, Emmie was going to need someone who could be there to keep her company and make things right.

Rick would wait patiently, he decided, as he clicked off the webpage.


	11. Money for Nothing

**Chapter 11—Money for Nothing**

"How's that feel to you, Ma'am? Rotate your arms and make sure the waist falls where it should" the petite woman instructed, standing on the floor next to her.

As she stood on the block in front of the three-way mirror, Emmie circled her arms at her side. The sleeveless scarlet gown with its sweetheart neckline kept its shape perfectly. Even that generous cleavage stayed where it should—this time. "This feels good" she said with an assured smile. She stood straight and tall, head up, chest out, watching proudly as the seamstress pulled some pins from the cushion on her wrist and delicately anchored the white satin sash that tied into a bow and trailed down her back. "Guess this is so I look good catching that bouquet, huh?"

The petite tailor looked up at her and smiled. "That part's not up to me."

Her heart welled up and she smiled when she heard Ryan's voice outside the curtain. Some of her young cousins were giggling. After a couple of minutes, Ryan poked his head between the curtains.

"Emmie? You decent?"

"Hi Sweet Stuff. Come on in. I'm just full of pins!" she called back.

Ryan stepped between the curtains and into the brightly-lit fitting room. He gazed at his sweetheart. She turned her head proudly while trying to stay still. "You like?"

"I don't care if you're all wearing the same thing. You're gonna be the best-looking one there.

She smiled slyly. "You're just saying that because it's true."

"Yeah. I am. Oh, I just talked to your dad earlier. When you're done getting fitted, he wants to talk to you. Said it was urgent. He's up at his office."

"Thanks, Ryan. So have you thought about where you want to have dinner?"

Ryan shook his head. "Room service is fine. I don't want to overstay my welcome. I mean, your family's been so nice to me."

"Well, you've been nice to me, so they're just returning the favor."

Ryan came closer to Emmie and craned his neck toward her. She bent down carefully and gave him a quick kiss. "I'll see you later. Call your dad before you go over there. I think I'm just gonna walk back to the room and log onto your laptop."

"See you, Sweetheart. Love you."

* * *

><p>Frank Stockburne was a tall, sturdy man with salt and pepper hair and gold-rimmed glasses. His very presence filled any room. He was confident and comfortable in his role as a semiretired CEO and as the patriarch of the Stockburne-Parr clan. During his thirty-five years in management of Stockburne Holdings and Properties, he had taken the company global. At the same time he always made the time and energy to maintain the bonds with his wife and daughters. As a result, the Stockburne family was a closely-knit, happy family, a rarity in New York Society. He always joked that he wasn't sure which tried his patience more—being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company or carefully raising three good daughters. He now paced the boardroom and tightened his lips in anger.<p>

"John, are you sure there's nothing we can do? I mean, her husband died for God's sake. And what about my grandson? How the hell am I supposed to look her in the eyes and tell her that everything she went through means nothing?" he demanded of the other gentleman.

John Newbaugh, the family's private attorney, shook his head almost desperately. "I'm sorry Frank, but that provision is clear as water. I don't like it either, but dammit, it's legally binding. You know she can contest it if she wants. But you also know she'd be in for a bloody battle, especially depending on how your other two girls feel about it. I mean, they're both married. Frank, I didn't set up the trust. I just execute it."

Frank Stockburne slammed down the old trust papers and sighed deeply. "Why?"

Emmie poked her head in through the sturdy oak doors. "Hi Dad. Hi John."

"Sweetheart. Come on in."

She walked in and kissed her father on the cheek. "Ryan said you wanted to talk to me."

He sat down and nodded. He extended his hand to the oak chair next to him. "Have a seat."

Emmie cautiously sat down in the chair next to her father. She looked at the two men's troubled faces. Her pleasant smile went away. "Something wrong?"

"John, I'll tell her. I'm her father." John nodded. Frank then looked seriously at Emmie. "Sweetheart, there's something I need to tell you about your share of the trust."

She looked at them warily. "Okay."

"I don't know how else to tell you, so I'll just tell you. Each one of you girls is to inherit your share when you reach thirty-five and a half years. As you know, both your sisters already got theirs."

Emmie nodded. She couldn't help but feel like her world was about to somehow be turned upside down.

Her father looked down. "Well, John was reviewing the trust, and he discovered a provision stating that the only way you can have your share is if you're married at that time. In other words, unless you're fully married-not just engaged-six months after your thirty-fifth birthday, no money and no holdings."

It was as though a lightning bolt had hit her. "What?"

Her father held up a handful of papers. "This is it right here. Honey, it was added back in 1867 to make sure the money would go to members of the family who would be responsible. Carry on the family name. Do things responsibly with the money. Not run all over town and blow it on partying and end up in the morgue where you work."

The sting had fully set in now. Emmie simply looked at the table. "This is a joke, right?" She looked back up into her father's eyes to see the sadness at having to break this news to her. "And my marriage to Dex means nothing?"

"You're a widow, Emmie" John chimed in.

She gripped the edge of the table as she raised her voice. That was always a touchy subject for her. "I know that, John! Is it my fault he was killed, for God's sake?" She bolted up out of her heavy chair. "I mean, what—"

"Emmie, calm down!" her father insisted, firmly raising his voice over hers. "This isn't the end of it. Nobody's throwing you out in the street! You can contest it in court. Problem is, you know that'll take years with court costs, and you know all the negative publicity. Tabloids eat this stuff up alive, and you know what that means. Or, well, how long have you and Ryan been seeing each other now?"

She breathed deeply and sat down. "Almost a year now."

"Well, it might be something for the two of you to talk about. This family loves him. He's a good man, and I think he'd make a good husband. If money is a problem, you know your mother and I will help you with the wedding, and you can pay us back when this thing comes through."

"Dad, what am I supposed to tell him? Just walk up to him and say 'Ryan, I don't get any money unless we get married. And we have to do it in four months.' I mean, come on."

Frank looked at his daughter seriously. "Emmie, did you forget that we play by a different set of rules? Did you forget that when you ran off to join the Marine Corps? You had one foot in both worlds for how long now? Ours and theirs. Sweetheart, I don't like it either. I love you. I love all the things you did with your life. But the truth is, we're a society family. We get married, we make heirs, and then we pass it all on to the next generation."

Emmie buried her face in her hands, keeping her temper in check out of love and respect for her father. "Dad, you should know better than to bring up the subject of kids to me after what happened!" Absentmindedly she clutched the scar on her stomach.

"I'm sorry Sweetheart. Look; first things first. This thing isn't a done deal, and you know it. Why don't you talk to Ryan? The two of you go out to dinner tonight and just talk about it. He's a nice guy. I'm sure he'll understand. I mean, he had to know who you were, right? I'm sure the ride up on a company jet gave you away, right?"

Emmie looked sullen. "It's the twenty-first century and I'm still marrying for money."

She and the two gentlemen sat silently.

"By the way, uh, can I ask how much we're talking about?" she finally asked, her heart pounding.

John put on his glasses as he dutifully picked up a balance sheet. "Emmie, your share, with cash returns, land holdings, properties, and stock options with the company, your share upon that six-month window will be ten."

Emmie bit her lip. "Ten. Million?"

John nodded his head as he took off his glasses. "That's what you inherit if you're married in four months. Welcome to the big leagues."


	12. Evidence of Things Unseen

**Chapter 12—Evidence of Things Unseen**

Tensely the brown-haired teen sipped her diet soda as she watched the Saturday afternoon crowds walk past her on the mall walkway. Leaning back on the concrete wall, she set the plastic cup down and then furiously tapped her cell phone. "Where the hell are you?" she snarled under the noise of the crowds.

REA WHERE RU?

Nothing.

For several minutes she just stared at the screen that seemed to taunt her. She texted again, mashing the keys hard enough to nearly strain her thumb. She could barely see through the angry tears in her eyes.

ANSR ME

Nothing.

She huffed. "I'm gonna kick your butt! I know you're out there!"

Saphira was tired and frustrated now. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand as she dropped the ice-filled cup into the trash. She craned her neck over the crowd when she thought she saw that familiar face. Nope. Not her. She sighed. But then….

_Finally!_

Rae was walking in her direction. Instead of being her old spry self, the blonde was sort of hunched over, her eyes following the floor. She let her hair cover her face like a curtain as she carried her backpack by the straps, letting it slap on her knee.

Quickly Saphira snatched up her purse and bolted down the hallway after her.

"Rae!"

The girl paid no attention. She never even looked up at the sound of her name. She just kept walking.

"Hey! Rae?" she called. "Rae!"

Saphira yanked her shoulder. Rae spun around at her, her eyes blazing. Saphira shrank back. It wasn't like her friend to look at her like that for no good reason. "Rae?" she asked more meekly and then gathered herself. "Where you been?"

"What do you want?" Reagan spat, putting one arm over her chest in defense.

The girl gathered her stance again. "I want to know what's going on! You haven't called me! You haven't been to the computer lab. Emmie's worried about you!" She could tell from the wet eyes and the lines on her face that Reagan had been crying. Now she was hugging herself. "Hey! You gonna talk to me?"

"I'll see ya" she said and started to turn around to leave.

Saphira grabbed her shoulder and turned her back around again. "No! I want to know what's going on, Rae! Come on. Let's go somewhere and talk."

Reagan trembled now as she wiped her eye with the heel of her hand. "No, I don't want to go somewhere! Just leave me alone! And tell Emily—"

"Emmie" she corrected.

"Whatever! I'm not coming back! I'm fine, okay?" She held up her elbow so Saphira couldn't grab her again. "What are you doing here anyway? Following me?"

The brown-haired teen just stared at her. "Well, yeah."

"Well get the hell out of here!" she snarled. She then grabbed a napkin out of her backpack and wiped her nose, glancing around at the passers-by who were looking at them now. "Look, do what you want. Just leave me alone!" With that she bolted away, not giving her friend another second of her attention.

Saphira just watched her, stunned. She and Rea had been friends since grade school. Why was she treating her like this all of a sudden?

Curiosity won out. Saphira elbowed her way through the crowd and followed her friend, making sure she was far enough behind her to not be seen. Reagan just kept slumping along, not paying attention to anyone, hiding her face with her hair, hiding whatever it was that was hurting her. From inside the main entrance Saphira watched her as she climbed onto the bus and headed away.

* * *

><p>Though she couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, anger was setting in. Rea had just tossed her aside, never saying anything to her. Looking down, Saphira headed back into the mall. "Fine. I don't care. Do what <em>you<em> want" she muttered.

Oblivious to everything around her, Reagan stomped into her room and slammed the door. She threw her backpack against the wall, where it landed on the bed with a SLAP! She let herself cry more freely now as she squirmed out of the tank top and shorts that she'd worn to the mall. For him. Sitting on the edge of the bed now in an old tee shirt and shorts, she just stared at them on her floor. She couldn't bear to touch them after what had happened. She closed her eyes and held her hands over her chest and clenched her knees together as tightly as she could.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"No! Leave me alone, you pig!"

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

She wiped her eyes and stared at the monitor that was screaming for her attention. It wasn't going to leave her alone. She thought about pulling the plug or turning off the console.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Adrenaline shot through her as she slowly and hesitantly sat down at her monitor. Her stomach knotted up.

_I can't keep doing this. _

She clicked the icon.

WHERE WER U?

"GO AWAY"

R U MAD ME?

The girl clenched her fists. She knew very well she shouldn't type another word. She couldn't give him any more attention. Just turn off the computer and forget he ever existed, she thought. It's all a bad dream. Just ignore that pig forever, and he'll go away.

"I DON'T EVER WANT 2 SPEAK 2 U AGAIN. U HURT ME."

The screen stayed silent for a while. Good, she thought. Maybe that pig will get the message and leave her alone. _Okay, turn off the computer and unplug it. Maybe he's gone now_. She had just reached over to turn off the power when something caught her attention.

Y?

"UR A PIG."

REA I WAS GOOD 2 U. U REALLY NO HOW 2 MAKE A GUY HAPPY.

She took another deep breath and clutched her stomach.

"GO AWAY. IM TURNING OFF MY COMPUTER NOW. ITS OVER. IF YOU BOTHER ME AGAIN ILL TELL SOMEBODY."

Silence. Good. She reached over in another attempt to shut off the computer.

CLICK ON THE ATTACHMENT. TELL ME IF U STILL WANNA END IT.

Hesitantly she clicked on the link. Instantly her stomach heaved. Whimpering, she covered her mouth and her stomach and bolted for the bathroom.

After she flushed the toilet and washed her face, the girl sat on the floor of her bathroom for what seemed hours. Tears streamed down her face as she hugged herself and shook her head. A knock on the bathroom door startled her.

"What!"

"Reagan, honey, are you all right?" her mother called through the door.

"I'm fine, Mom."

"I heard you throwing up. Are you sick?"

She looked down at the floor again and held her stomach. "Yeah, Mom. Probably just that flu bug that's going around."

She gathered herself and opened the bathroom door to see her worried mother waiting outside.

"I'm okay, Mom! Really! I'm gonna go to bed now." She didn't wait for an answer as she edged toward her room and closed her door again.

Her mother reached out with her hand as her daughter shot past her. "Reagan, let me check your forehead. Reagan!" She huffed when she heard the door slam. "Great. You got the flu, now the family's gonna get the flu." Kids!

One glance was all it took. She spun away again and looked at her closed door. When she could gather her nerve, she looked at the computer screen again.

IF U LEAVE ME ILL POST THESE ALL OVER THE WEB. HOW WUD U LIKE UR PARENTS & FRIENDS 2 NO?


	13. When Worlds Collide

**Chapter 13—When Worlds Collide**

What had once been the beautiful, comfortable suite at the Michaelangelo was now just a lot of pretty furniture to her. She felt numb. Nonetheless she sat alone in the quiet, her silver laptop on the green marble coffee table, hoping something in the Olson/Matthews case might have cropped up over the weekend. It might take her mind off things. And certainly a little overtime might help. She clicked keys, focusing all of her attention on that screen.

Chip Melton had written a check to Ken Pettigrew for thirty-five thousand. She remembered details from the case file off the top of her head. Chip Melton's property had had one lone concrete slab in the back yard. He said he was going to put in an addition to the house. But that lone slab was well away from the house, and he had not yet applied for a building permit.

She quickly ran a search on building permits filed within the county under Chip Melton's property. Nothing. Not even a pending permit. She then clicked keys and looked up Ken Pettigrew. He was the part owner of Pettigrew and Sons Engineering. But this particular firm didn't do building additions. They did excavation and built basements and underground storage, something that was expensive and rare in swampy south Florida. Ryan had noted that….

Ryan. She closed her eyes. That had shocked her back to the stinging reality.

_How am I supposed to tell Ryan about my estate? What is he gonna say? Marry me? This is all so sudden. _

Her father's voice rang in her ears.

"_Emmie, did you forget that we play by a different set of rules? We're a society family."_

She studied her hands. Emmie had short, plain fingernails and those large, muscular fingers, probably from being on a computer keyboard most of her life. Probably from lifting weights, kickboxing, and all those other things pretty, delicate society ladies didn't do. She stared at that scratched silver laptop. For so many years it had been her security blanket, her peace of mind, her livelihood. All those years she was so sure that she had done the right thing by becoming a Marine and then joining the FBI. At the same time, she was so sure that her share of the estate would be there for her.

Now Emmie Stockburne wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Her thoughts went away when Ryan came through the door. She looked up.

"Hi Sweet Stuff."

No sooner was he on the other side of the door than he took her in his arms and kissed her. "Mmm. I missed you. So, you order dinner yet? I'm getting a little hungry. Mmm. I'd eat _you_ up if I could."

She shook her head sadly and glanced at her laptop. "Sorry, I didn't even think about it. Let me call them."

Ryan sensed her sadness. "You all right?"

She nodded sadly and sat down on the sofa again. "I'm fine."

He sat down next to her and put a hand on her knee. "Everything go okay with your dad?"

Emmie could almost feel the blood drain away from her head. She looked away from him. "I don't know how else to tell you, Ryan. So I'm just gonna tell you. That meeting I had with my dad? He talked about the trust and my share of it."

"Okay. What did they tell you?"

"Well, they found a provision in the trust that says, long story short, I can't get my hands on it unless I get married."

Ryan listened pensively. "I see. Not sure what to say."

She still couldn't look at him. "Uh, Ryan? I have to be married within the next four months or I lose everything. That's what the attorney told me today."

He looked at her in disbelief. "What? Are you serious?"

She looked at him desperately. "You think I'd make up something like that? It was a slap in the face for me, too!"

Ryan backed away from her slightly as a thousand scenarios raced through his head. His law enforcement career and all those seminars. His plans for promotion to senior CSI. His OCD tendencies that might rub her the wrong way. He had only been rehired after his gambling incident, and he still needed some time. What about that cat of hers? He didn't care for cats. They got fur all over everything. "Pretty big bombshell, Emmie" he said faintly.

She looked at him with angry, helpless eyes. "What do you want me to do, Ryan?"

"What do you want ME to do?"

Emmie knew she couldn't just outright ask Ryan to marry her. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on her hand.

Ryan looked away, knowing where this was going to lead. "I mean, that's not the sort of thing you just rush into, right?"

"Well, we've been dating for over a year now, haven't we?"

"Yeah, but…."

She stood up and gathered up her purse. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I shouldn't have said anything to you. If you still want something from Room Service, go ahead and call. I'm not really hungry."

"Where are you going?" he asked, looking at the wall.

"I'm just gonna take a walk." Wiping her eyes, she walked out the door, leaving him on the couch.

* * *

><p>Several hours later Emmie knocked on her parents' door. Her father opened it. "Well, hi Sweetheart."<p>

Emmie looked at him with those weary eyes. "Hey, Dad. Can I come in?"

Frank Stockburne opened the door for his daughter. "Thought you might be with your cousins. They're having a private party over at one of the clubs."

"I think I'm a little old for them. Besides, Jello shots aren't really my thing. Nah, I've just been out sort of gathering my thoughts."

Her father put his arm out to the sofa. "Emmie, sit down." He knew why she was here. He sat next to his daughter and watched her as she stared at the floor. "You and Ryan, huh?"

Emmie shook her head. "Look, Dad. I know what you said about our family, and you're right. Well, I'm not sure he sees it that way."

Frank Stockburne tightened his lips and patted her shoulder. He felt bad about the pain he'd caused her that day. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I hope you can work things out."

She shrugged as she picked up her purse. "I guess I better go back to the suite. Maybe we can talk some more or something. I just hope I didn't scare him away with that marriage talk."

"He's not there."

Emmie furrowed her eyebrows. "Huh?"

Her father sighed deeply and put his hand to his chin in thought. "Ryan came by with his bag packed and told me to tell you that he got a flight back to Miami. He might be at the airport right now. He didn't call you or anything?"

"Dad! Why didn't you tell me?"

Her father opened his mouth to say something when she flew out of his suite and down the hallway, fumbling with her card key, pushing the door open.

Sure enough, the suite was dark except for the light on in her bedroom. "Ryan?" she called weakly in the desperate hope that he might actually be there and this whole thing was just a bad dream.

Silence.

Emmie took out her cell phone and hit the speed dial, hoping Ryan would pick up. His voice mail. "Dammit, Ryan. Pick it up, please?"

It wasn't like Ryan to turn his phone off. She thought about trying the GPS tracking feature on her computer. Maybe he was at the airport. Emmie stared at her laptop for a long time. No, she wasn't going to do that.

Slowly and numbly, Emmie walked into his room. The bed was still made, but the bedspread had been shuffled around a little, as though he had laid things on top of it in a hurry.

Emmie stared at Ryan's room for a long time. She then picked up her cell phone and hit the speed dial again.

"Ryan? It's Emmie. I'm sorry we argued. Please give me a call back. Maybe we can talk a little bit tomorrow or something?" She put her hand on top of her head now. "Ryan, if you want me to come home early, you just tell me. Please tell me where you are, Ryan." She then paused for a moment. "I love you." She then swallowed hard as she hung up.

* * *

><p>One by one the streetlights shone into the cab window as Ryan rode home from Miami International. He leaned his face on his hand and watched the city go by out the window. It was so strange how few things affected him as when he and Emmie argued. Upsetting her always gave him such a sick feeling in his stomach that no crime scene could ever match. He especially felt bad for just leaving.<p>

He loved her. He loved that tall, tough, amazing cybertechnician who could give him soothing neck rubs. Now, out of the blue, she was expecting him to marry her within four months. For money, of all things. And no doubt her family would have all kinds of expectations.

Ryan rubbed that spot over his eye with his finger. Sometimes his vision bothered him.

"I'm sorry, Emmie. I can't give you what you need" he whispered toward the window. "I really wish I could."


	14. Indecent Proposals

**Chapter 14—Indecent Proposals**

It was hard for Horatio to miss the sad, robotic stare that had replaced Emmie Stockburne's normal cheerfulness as she stood at the doorway.

"Miss Stockburne. Come on in" he said, leaning forward at his desk. "I understand you found a possible break in the Olson/Matthews case."

"_Possible_ break, Sir. Not sure it's enough to get a warrant of any kind."

"That's all right. If it will help, I want to know."

She laid the brown case file on his desk. He picked it up and thumbed through her findings.

* * *

><p>An aggravated Rick Stetler sniffed as he rummaged for file folders. He wasn't used to the dark, cramped, dusty supply closet. Dust flew in every direction, settling onto his dark jacket and making him sneeze. He sneered and kicked when a spider crawled over his neatly shined shoe. The file clerk had called in sick, meaning he would have to dig for supplies himself. "Can't they keep this place clean?" he muttered to himself.<p>

Faint voices in the suspended ceiling caught his attention. He stopped shifting boxes and tipped his head up to listen. He could barely hear.

"_These were all the bank records you could pull for Pettigrew Engineering?"_

"_Well, Sir, you'll see I highlighted the transactions. There was a cash deposit from an unknown source. Certified check, I believe. If nothing else, the guy's guilty of comingling of funds."_

There was a long silence.

"_Do I need to be concerned about you, Emmie?"_

"_I'm fine, Sir."_

"_You were supposed to ask why I should be concerned about you."_

More silence. Rick recognized Emmie sighing as she settled down in Horatio's office chair.

"_You want to get married again? _

"_I beg your pardon?"_

"_Nothing. Forget I said that. "You'd never believe me if I told you anyway."_

"_Emmie, I'm not just your supervisor. I'm a CSI, remember? I'll believe the evidence. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"_

Rick no longer cared about his dusty jacket. He dipped his head, straining to listen as Emmie told Horatio about her estate and how Ryan had just walked away. How she had been unable to reach him. How she would have to marry in four months or be out in the cold. The IAB agent nodded with a resolve. Emmie was going to need a friend. Fast.

* * *

><p>Emmie had not yet gone home or eaten dinner yet. She simply sat at her favorite thinking spot at the small beach near the cruise ship ports. This was where she came to contemplate life issues since moving to Miami. Listening to the surf and feeling the breeze in her chestnut hair always seemed to put things in perspective. This evening she simply sat on one of the flat jetty rocks and buried her face in her folded arms. That comforting sea breeze and the waves were just noise to her now. She couldn't cry. It was the same numbness she'd felt when Dex had died. Her heart had been ripped out, and she could feel nothing.<p>

Despite her best efforts, Emmie felt herself second-guessing life. Why did Dex have to die? Why did she come to Florida? Why did Ryan have to run out on her? Just what was so special about Ryan Wolfe anyway? He was just doing his job when he saved her life. Why did she have to run from her family all those years ago? Was it really such a great thing to be an expert cybertech? Just long hours for crappy pay and playing politics. If she played along, she wouldn't have to worry about money. Why did she have to fight so much along the way? Couldn't she just go along to get along? Being a society wife couldn't have been so hard. She wouldn't have been left to fend for herself. Just marry some rich guy and have a headache for fifty years. Did she ruin her whole life with that fighting spirit of hers? Hugging her knees, she buried her face on one arm, rocking her head from side to side in despair. Anything to dispel the grief.

"Emmie?" a familiar voice said. "You all right?"

The cybertech didn't bother to lift her head. It wasn't Ryan.

"Got a minute?" the voice asked almost sympathetically.

Slowly she lifted her head and looked with those sad, tired eyes.

Rick Stetler now leaned back on the rock next to her. He too looked like he had come straight from work. He dipped his head to look at her sympathetically, like he truly wanted to take her pain away. His red paisley tie flapped in the breeze, and he still wore his badge and his police gear. He had his pinstripe jacket draped over one arm as he held out a familiar green can. "It's Diet Sprite. That's what you're always getting out of the vending machine every time I see you."

Emmie lowered her eyes at the offering and then glanced up at him. Slowly she took it from his hand. "Thanks, Sir."

"You can call me Rick. We're off the clock now."

She took a sip from the straw. It tasted so good, so cold, and the caffeine brought her back to life almost instantly. "Thanks. Rick."

"You're welcome. Okay for me to sit here?"

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. It's a public beach."

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?"

She didn't answer.

"You and Ryan had a fight, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Rick decided he'd best cut to the chase. "It's your estate, isn't it?"

"Excuse me?"

The IAB agent shrugged now. "Look, I know it's not my business. Those walls have ears, okay? That's an awful lot of pressure for you."

She opened her mouth to tell him to stay out of her business. But the old Emmie Stockburne fighting spirit just wasn't there. She closed her mouth and looked down again.

The IAB agent sensed her helplessness. He dipped his head and looked at her soothingly. "You're tough, but you're not gonna be able to go it alone this time. I can help you. That is, if you want. "

"I don't know how you could possibly help me, Sir. Rick."

"You need a husband, and I'm sick and tired of doing this IAB crap. I hope you'll carefully consider this."

"Consider what?"

"Marry me."

Emmie was numb and distressed, but that had shocked her right out of it. She looked at him with wide eyes. "Huh?"

Rick never changed his stance. Both arms under his jacket, he looked at her confidently but sympathetically. "Think about it, Emmie. You need a husband so you can get your estate, right? And those family contacts of yours would sure help my career. We'd do each other favors. You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. Isn't that how it works?"

_You, Mister, will never touch my back!_ "You're out of your mind. I barely know you."

"Am I? Emmie, you've known me for a couple of years. Look, nobody said you have to love me. It would just be a marriage of convenience. You'll get your money, and I'll do my part to move us up the food chain. This is what you were meant to do all your life. Can't you see that? Now you're gonna need a husband who knows how to politick and handle pressure. I can only make things better for you and your family. "

"I don't know. I mean…." _Marry Rick Stetler?_

"I'd give you any kind of wedding you want. We could just go to the courthouse and say 'I do.' Or maybe you've had your heart set on that big wedding? Name it. Anything you want."

She just looked at him now.

"How long did you say you had? Four months?"

She didn't answer.

"Tell you what." He nodded toward the lights by the water. "The Portside is your favorite restaurant, isn't it?"

She shrugged. "Kind of."

"Why don't we take a walk over there? Dinner's on me. We can talk a little more. You're gonna feel a lot better after you eat something."

The numbness and sadness won. And Ryan was nowhere to be found. As Rick stuck his hand out to her, she accepted it and let him help her down from the rock. Rick knew he would have to pay to play.


	15. Just Between Friends

**A/N: I'd like to thank Mummacass and ajay for their reviews.  
>Contains spoilers for Skeletons, Internal Affairs and Rampage.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15—Just Between Friends<strong>

Silently Ryan thumbed through the morning's case files and sorted them into piles, letting them land on the desk one by one with a SLAP! Five were slated to go to the computer lab. If he could possibly avoid talking to Emmie right now, he would, he decided. Natalia looked like she was going out the door. He held up the five folders.

"Nat, I got a rush job. You mind taking these to the computer lab for me?"

Sullenly she nearly snatched them from his hand. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"Yeah, I'll take these to Emmie. Don't worry; you won't have to bother with her" she said curtly. Natalia knew why he didn't want to go to the computer lab. Ryan just buried himself in his work as she walked out.

When the CSI was out of sight, he just looked at the doorway sadly.

* * *

><p>Emmie was alone, absorbed in her current case, fixed on the monitor and clicking keys when Natalia stepped into the lab. For a few seconds the CSI just looked at her back. Either Emmie was ignoring people, or she was genuinely focused on what she was doing. Or both.<p>

"Hey, Emmie."

The computer tech never looked away. "Hey, Natalia. What's going on?"

"Brought over some stuff from Trace."

She still never took her eyes off the monitor. "Thanks. Just put them in my stack. Tyler and I will take care of them."

Quietly she laid the case files in the box and then walked over. The two of them had become friends and confidants since their FBI days. Natalia knew what it was to be an outcast. She had been the FBI mole, while Emmie Stockburne had been Dan Cooper's replacement. "Emmie?"

Emmie sensed that Natalia genuinely wanted to talk. She spun in her chair and gave her her full attention. "Uh huh?"

"I heard about you and Ryan. Sorry."

A chill ran through her. She sniffed and looked down. "Thanks."

"I just wanted you to know, though. I think you did the right thing."

"What do you mean?"

Natalia glanced back toward the Trace lab. "Well, you know how people talk in this lab."

"Kind of like the FBI?"

"Yeah." Her voice sank to a whisper. "Anyway, is it true that Ryan dumped you because you wouldn't sleep with him?"

Emmie took a deep breath. Rick Stetler's newfound attention was just no substitute. Anything about Ryan was a knife through her heart right now.

Natalia didn't wait for an answer as she pulled up Tyler's chair and sat close to her. It was obvious the computer tech really needed a friend. "Something happened before you came to work here. Delko and I were dating and, we, you know. Well, we had a scare. I thought I was pregnant."

"Were you?"

She glanced down and held her belly. "No, thank God. Probably just stress and a stomach virus. But we just decided we'd better end it. I couldn't be sure Delko wasn't cheating on me. Do you know how I found out? Dan Cooper of all people! He told me Delko had hooked him up with some beach babes! I mean, I gave myself to him, thinking we had something special. Ends up I was just another one in his long list of girlfriends. It wasn't long after we broke up that he dated this crazy chick who broke car windows." She sighed. "I also heard somewhere that he was toothing." The memory was still painful for her. "Now he says he likes Calleigh, even after she went to Antigua with Jake Berkeley." She shook her head at the memory. "I don't know. I really tried to pretend it didn't hurt. And I have to come to work and face him every single day knowing he had me and it didn't mean anything thing to him. And what if one of those chicks of his had a disease or something?"

Emmie just lowered her eyes. Both of them sat in silence for what seemed a long time.

Natalia could feel her anger rising at the memory. "Ryan asked Delko if he wouldn't mind if we dated. Delko said 'You're clear for takeoff.' Is that romantic or what?" She chuckled a little as she studied the blue floor. "I used to think that idea of waiting till marriage was so, I don't know. Old-fashioned" Natalia continued. "My grandmother used to tell me 'Why should he buy the cow if you're giving him the milk for free?' And then she went on to tell me all about how men like a woman with mystery. You had to leave something to the imagination. Give him a reason to want to marry you. If you don't respect yourself, why should he?" She sniffed. "And I'd just roll my eyes and think, 'Yeah, Grammie. Whatever. That's so nineteenth century.' Well, my grandparents were married fifty-five years before my grandfather died. Nick and I lived together before we got married. I bought that old line about living together to see if we were compatible. Well you know what? It was still a disaster. We still got divorced."

Emmie looked ruefully at the CSI. "I didn't even get to live with Dex _after_ we got married. He was gone eight months out of the year."

"How long were you married?"

"Five years. He was gone eight months out of the year."

"And then he died. Must've been hard."

"It was."

"Wow. Saved yourself and then married a guy you hardly ever saw. Would you do it again, you think?"

Emmie looked at the CSI. "You know, Natalia, I just don't know."

"Don't know if I'm ever gonna fall in love again. But if I do, the guy doesn't get any until he gives me a piece of paper and a ring. I'm never gonna do that again." Natalia stood up. "That's all I wanted to say." With that she headed for the doorway.

"Natalia?"

She turned around.

"Thanks."

"I'm here if you need me." And with that she left.

Emmie bit her lip with the newfound sadness. Ryan was still avoiding her. But then she gathered herself. This was an important case, and no doubt it would take her mind off things.

Her green eyes scanned the group of IP addresses that had come through the chat rooms during the same time as Nicole Olson and Liesel Matthews. This one had her attention. She quickly picked up the phone and hit the speed dial.

Horatio clicked his cell phone. "Caine."

"Hey, Sir. Emmie in the computer lab. You might want to see this chat session. The user had an anonymizer, but it was grouped in the same set of IP numbers as the other two cases and about the same time. Sending you the link right now."

"Where did it come from?"

"Out of the IT training lab at the University of Miami. Checked the electronic logs. One of my FBI contacts confirmed the guy who signed in is an Andrew Pender. He chats under the name Andypandy and it looks like he's gonna pick up somebody who chats under the name Lolita. Traced that IP address to Dan and Marlene Smith in Coral Gables. They have a fourteen-year-old daughter named Bethany. The history is about the same as the other two. It also looks like they're scheduling a meeting. Numbers, chat style, everything lines up with the other two, Sir."

"I'll be looking for it. Nice work, Emmie." With that he clicked off his cell phone.

As his computer chirped to let him know he had an incoming message, Horatio quickly sat down and clicked on the link that Emmie had sent him. His steely blue eyes scanned through all the usual flirting and the sexual references.

IM IN TOWN ON BUSINESS. U WANNA MEET?

WOW! WHERE?

SOUTHLAND MALL IN THE PARKING LOT BY THE STAGE. 4PM. NO WHERE IT IS?

YA SOUNDS GUD.

BLUE CHEVY IMPALA WITH WHITE RACING STRIPE. COME ALONE.

WUT D U WANNA DO?

THEY CALL ME LONGDONG. WANNA FIND OUT WHY?

*GIGGLE*

With a new resolve Horatio hit the speed dial on his cell phone. "Frank? Horatio. Southland Mall by the stage in half an hour. Blue Chevy Impala with a white racing stripe. Looks like our guy just might be making another pickup. And we're gonna be waiting for him."


	16. Wannabe

**Chapter 16—Wannabe**

Horatio held the radio to his mouth and kept his hand on his weapon. Through his sunglasses the Lieutenant watched the blue car like a hawk would watch its prey before swooping down. He and Frank barely breathed as they waited in silence, like so many times before.

"Nothing. Suspect's still in the driver's seat. Over." he said over the radio. "Wait a minute!"

"This could be Bethany" Frank said in a hushed tone as he nodded.

A young, thin girl with long, straight brown hair wander along the row of cars. The girl looked somewhat lost, glancing back and forth, until she spotted the blue Chevy Impala. Horatio glanced at the school database printout that Tyler had given him.

"This is it, Gentlemen" Horatio said. "On my mark."

All eyes were fixed on the blue Impala. All hands were on radios and guns as the girl chatted, giggled, and then got into the car's passenger side.

"Go! Go! _Go_!"

The car had no sooner started up and had begun to back out when it was swarmed by two patrol cars from behind and police officers on all sides, yelling at the dumbfounded driver not to move. The driver held his hands up while his passenger screamed, terrified.

"Miami-Dade Police! Get out of the car, turn around, and put your hands on your head!" Horatio said in a not-to-be-argued-with tone, gun pointed at the door. He pulled the door open while the man turned around. Frank quickly snapped cuffs on him. "Andrew Pender you're under arrest for soliciting a minor and for suspicion of murder and two counts of kidnapping!"

The shock now changed to terror. Eyes wide, he shook his head. "Murder? Nah, not me, man! You got the wrong guy!"

"Let's go, Andypandy! We can talk about it downtown!" Frank snapped as he hustled him away.

Natalia pulled the passenger side door open. "Bethany Smith? You all right?"

The girl looked up at the CSI. Natalia could hardly understand her through her tears, and she trembled. "What's going on?"

"Here. Step out of the car."

Her arms folded protectively, she obeyed, watching Natalia and the chaos around her. Her eyes then followed as Frank pushed Andrew's head down, guiding him into a waiting patrol car.

* * *

><p>As he sat at the interrogation table, Horatio studied the young, thin, black-haired man who never expected his afternoon to end up this way. Arms folded, Frank scowled from the doorway as Horatio flipped open the case file.<p>

"So, Andrew Pender, alias Andypandy, alias Longdong."

Andrew shut his eyes in embarrassment. They knew his secrets. "I swear to God, I didn't know she was only fourteen."

The Lieutenant slapped papers on the table in front of him. "But you _did_ know she was under the age of consent when you were chatting with her." He then fanned out some pieces of paper. "We've been following your chat sessions, Mr. Pender. "You yourself said to Lolita that you prefer girls younger than eighteen. Says right here on this chat that you're the dangerous type. What exactly does that mean?"

He tightened his lips. "Okay, I was trying to get a date with her. And the whole police department was on me for that?"

"That and one count of murder, first degree rape, and two counts of kidnapping."

His green eyes widened and he shook his head. "What? Uh uh! You got me confused with somebody else, man." He then grasped his red-speckled fingers and winced in some pain. "Ow!"

"What did you do to your hands?" Horatio wanted to know.

Andrew Pender glanced at the red speckles on his hands. "I burned myself working on cars. I major in engine repair."

Unfazed, Horatio placed another piece of paper in front of him. "That's funny, because the university has you majoring in soil engineering, with a minor in computer sciences. How could you possibly burn your hands from digging in the dirt?"

"Okay, okay, I jump-started my friend's car the other day. It blew battery acid on my hands. Not a lot."

Horatio never flinched. "Battery acid makes a splash pattern when it burns, Mr. Pender. Those are specks, like some kind of powder burn. Also, the hydrochloric acid burns would be so bad you'd require emergency room treatment. I can check with the local hospitals and see whether you're telling the truth. Soil engineer? I'm thinking you burned yourself with a high concentration of white phosphorus, which I might add is a well-known bomb-making component."

"No, I swear."

"Also, if we were to take your DNA and a chemical sample of those burns, are we gonna find the same white phosphorus as we found on our murder victim?"

His self-assuredness was completely gone now. Eyes wide, he simply grasped his hands and shook his head. "Okay, look, I was picking up girls online. My buddies in the dorm showed me how easy it is. I'm from Buffalo, and I, well, heard about Miami girls. But I swear to God, that was the first time, and I never hurt anybody."

Horatio narrowed his eyes at the young man. "We'll see what the evidence has to say, Mr. Pender. In the meantime, we're going to check every computer at the college that you've logged in under. We're also gonna check the computer in your dorm room." He then slid a piece of paper and a pen in Andrew Pender's direction. "And you're gonna give me a list of every one of your college buddies who's been soliciting minors. I don't know about the laws in Buffalo, but here in Florida that's a felony."

"I can't do that" he nearly whispered.

"Your college buddies are gonna let you take the fall. I, on the other hand, can cut you a deal. Mr. Pender, do you know what they do to pedophiles on the inside? Think about it." Horatio stood up. "Book him, Frank."

Frank stood behind the man and snapped handcuffs on him. "Few hours with the gangbangers and Billy Badasses might change your mind. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Saphira tapped her can of Amp on the desk as she stared blankly at her monitor. Rae hadn't spoken to her since that day in the mall. What would make her just walk away from her best friend? Her mom wouldn't understand, she thought. Besides, she was too old to be spilling everything out to Mommy anymore. Somebody, anybody to talk to, she thought. Anything to cheer her up right now.<p>

Saphira clicked on the chat icon.

"U THERE KEITH?"

"Hell. Nobody wants to talk" she muttered, kicking the computer table with her sandaled foot.

"U THERE KEITH?"

The teen was about to click off the chat session. "This sucks."

IM HERE, SAPHIRA. HOW RU?

"FEEL LIKE CRAP."

Y?

"MY BEST FRIEND WONT TALK 2 ME. THINK SHES CING A GUY WHO TREATS HER LIKE CRAP."

SORRY 2 HR IT.

"IM LONELY. I HATE IT. Y DID SHE DO THAT 2 ME? WE WERE BF SINCE WE WERE KIDS AND NOW SHE BLOWS ME OFF."

WUTS UR FRIENDS NAME?

"NOBODY."

PLS TELL ME? WHAT SCHOOL DU GO2?

Saphira hesitated.

CAN I BE UR FRIEND? U CAN TELL ME WHATS BOTHERING U.

She was aching inside, yet Keith was being so nice to her.

"I DON'T EVEN NO U."

I DON'T NO U EITHER. U CAN TELL ME ANYTHING AND I WONT TELL A SOUL. DON'T U HAVE ANYBODY ELSE 2 TALK 2?

Saphira looked at her printer in thought. Emmie Stockburne had told her not to give away too much about herself.

"NOBODY."

SAPHIRA, I NO UR ON FB. WUD U SEND ME ANOTHER PICTURE OF U?

Saphira hesitated. Emmie seemed pretty cool, though. Even though she was so much older, she sure seemed to understand boyfriend trouble. And she really seemed to care.

PLEASE? ILL LISTEN 2U.

"Y DU WANT A PIC OF ME?"

SO I CAN HAVE YOU WITH ME, EVEN WHEN WERE NOT CHATTING 2GETHER.

Her eyes fell on the camera perched on top of her monitor. Her hand reached up to click a picture of herself. But then she remembered Emmie Stockburne's words.

"_Tell you what. If you need anything, or if Rae needs anything, I want you to call me."_

"G2G. CULATER." Before Keith could respond, she clicked off the chat screen.


	17. Needful Things

**Chapter 17—Needful Things**

Ryan was on his knees in his dusty, oil-stained blue coveralls. He tightened his lips in frustration as he scanned the Impala's black matting. With his gloved hands he swabbed the accelerator and brake pedal in hopes of finding out whether Andrew Pender had lured anyone else. "Anything?" he called back to Delko.

Delko had his head buried in the trunk, sweeping every inch with his flashlight. He too could feel the frustration rising. "Nah. Nothing, man. Old homework pages. Looks like he gets done with a test and just throws his stuff in the trunk and forgets about it."

Ryan sniffed. "You mean kind of like you did?"

Delko smirked and shook his head. "Aw, come on, I wasn't this messy!" He then straightened up and scowled at the Impala. "We just keep hitting dead ends with this case. It's like all we're gonna nail this guy for is Bethany Smith. H secured a warrant so Emmie and Tyler could sweep the university's emails. They're not gonna know anything till tomorrow."

Ryan shook his head as he looked at the car. "One dead and those others missing. Longdong's not our guy."

"Nah. Too young and too stupid."

Ryan looked toward the lab's garage door. "He's still out there."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe Tyler and Emmie can find something."

Ryan closed his eyes. He didn't need to hear about Emmie right now.

* * *

><p>"Night Emmie. See you in the morning" Tyler said as he stepped out of the computer lab. "What are you, pulling a double shift or something?"<p>

Emmie glanced up from the main monitor. "Oh, hey, night Tyler. No, just trying to stay ahead. I actually get some field time tomorrow, and I just want to make sure we don't get backed up."

"Can I help?"

She looked down and shook her head. "No thanks. I can handle it."

Tyler nodded slightly. Emmie used to trust him to take care of things in her absence. Now she didn't seem to trust anybody anymore. "Well, I'll see you."

Satisfied that she was alone, Emmie closed her tired eyes and held her sore hands. But she was hurting on the inside too. Burying herself in her work was a convenient excuse to not have to talk to anyone. Or think about Ryan and her estate.

As Rick Stetler stepped off the elevator, he tipped his head up and scanned the lab, inspecting things as he usually did. Emmie was still at her desk, he noticed. As he walked into the computer lab, she seemed unaware of his presence. This was unusual itself, he thought, since he knew she was an old Marine and reacted quickly to outside noises. Even as he stood next to her, hands in pockets, she still had her head down, eyes closed, clutching her fingers. He began to wonder if she might be asleep.

"Emmie?"

Rather than being startled by his voice, Emmie simply opened her eyes, staring at her keyboard. "Need something, Sir?"

"You all right?"

"I was just closing things out for the night shift."

He motioned toward the door. "It's getting dark. Can I walk you to your car?"

She still looked down. "I appreciate the thought, but there's something I have to take care of."

"I'll wait for you."

She shook her head tiredly. "I'll be fine, Sir. You have a nice evening."

As he turned to go, Rick just studied her. She was still a mystery to him, but he knew her well enough that she didn't go spilling her guts to just anyone. He decided he'd just wait for her by the front door. Just in case she changed her mind.

* * *

><p>Ryan walked through the parking lot, his bag slung over his shoulder. He waved the moths away from his face in the balmy night air. His heart almost stopped when Emmie stepped out from the cars and faced him.<p>

"Ryan?" she said weakly.

He could see the pain in her eyes. "Emmie?"

Her head lowered, she walked toward him. "Did you get my messages?"

He paused for a long time. "Yeah, I did. Thanks."

"Well?"'

"I don't know what to tell you." He searched for the right words. "Look, things are just going way too fast with you and me. We need to step back and cool things down a bit. I just can't do what you're asking, okay?"

"Ryan?" She glanced around to see whether anyone else was in the parking lot.

"And why do we have to hide from everybody? We're allowed to see each other. Are you ashamed to be seen with me? I'm not one of those rich boy toys from New York!"

"How could you say something like that? I'm trying to protect you."

He no longer cared whether anyone else could hear. "Protect me from what? How long are you gonna be scared of Stetler?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I'm a big boy and can take care of myself, Emmie! I don't need you protecting me, okay? You didn't want anybody to know about us. I played along. And now you think it's okay to just come at me so you can get your money? Well it's not!" Without another word he bolted to his car without looking at her.

"So that's it?" she asked weakly, looking at the pavement.

He walked between the cars, never looking at her. "Yeah. I guess that's it." Ryan didn't give her a chance to answer as he slipped into his car and slammed the door. Inside the safety of his car, he barely caught of glimpse of Emmie still standing in the darkened parking lot, her head still down. He knew he'd just put a knife in her heart. But maybe it was for the better.

For a long time Emmie could only stand in the parking lot, her head down. No other sounds except the crickets and the hissing of the wind in the palm trees. Finally she glanced at her car keys in her hand. She could hear footsteps in the parking lot now and figured it might be a good idea to just go home. Forget this ever happened. Just wake up from this bad dream.

"Emmie? You okay?"

Rick stood by her under the light, hands in his pockets again. Those hurting eyes met his in the darkness. That's all he needed to see. He now tipped his head down to her. "You know, I really hate to see you like this. Do you want to go for a walk and maybe talk this out?"

As sad as she was, it occurred to her that Rick might have been following her and heard everything. But she no longer had the will to fight. "I'm okay, Sir."

Rick held his hand out. "Let me have your keys. At least I can walk you to your car. Where are you parked?"

She lifted her hand tiredly and pointed toward her Blazer three rows back. She then dropped the cluster of keys in his hand. He pointed the remote entry button and pressed it. The white Chevy Blazer chirped in response. As he held the driver's side door open for her, she tiredly threw her laptop and purse in the passenger seat and sat behind the wheel, looking out the windshield while he bent down to look into her eyes. Neither one said anything for a few minutes.

"Emmie? What Ryan did to you was wrong. You don't deserve to be treated like that" Rick finally said softly. Not like a supervisor who was concerned for his employees, but in a charming, soothing voice that was meant to help a hurting, vulnerable woman forget that other man.

"Thank you" was all that she could manage.

Silently Rick reached out to her tired hand and gently grasped it. Emmie could no longer help herself. She leaned forward and leaned her face on her arm, breathing deeply to fight tears. He responded by squeezing her hand more tightly. Emmie was sweating and trembling, and he sensed that she was losing that control. Finally she sniffed and glanced around for a tissue. Quickly he handed her one from his pocket. She wiped her eyes and nodded to him. He tightened his grip on her sweaty hand as her face glistened with tears now.

"It's okay. You can cry. Any man who'd hurt you has to be a real monster."

That lump in her throat kept her from talking. Damned if she would let him see her cry, but this was just too much of a blow. While still holding her hand, Rick got up off his heels and stood next to her. She couldn't hold back anymore and sobbed on her steering wheel. Something in him wanted to stroke her hair, hold her close, but it was too soon. He would have to do this carefully. Patiently.

"Would you like me to drive you home?"

With her free hand Emmie wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I should get home. I've got a busy day tomorrow. Thanks, Sir. Rick."

In the darkness Rick took out a pen and scrawled on a piece of paper. "Here's my cell phone number. Just call me if you want to talk, okay? I'm the head of IAB, so anything you tell me stays between us."

Emmie took the paper and glanced at it. "Thanks." She stuffed it into her waist pocket.

"Drive safe now. I'll see you in the morning." With that he closed the door and watched the taillights of the Blazer fade away.

Rick smiled as he walked toward his car now. He could almost taste that promotion. Ryan had made this too easy for him, he thought. He would just be sure to say and do the right things, just like he had done with Yelina. But he knew this time he'd have to be careful. After all, Yelina wasn't an heiress.


	18. Listen to Me!

**Chapter 18—Listen to Me!**

The man wore a short-sleeved denim shirt that had not been tucked into his Levis. He had thick curly black hair, a black goatee, and weathered, tanned skin. He had obviously spent his fair share of time in the Florida sun in his younger days. He looked more like a beach bum than an IT professor. His weathered brown eyes glanced at the piece of paper in his hands and then at Horatio. "A warrant to search the University of Miami computer lab?"

Horatio stood in front of him, not to be argued with. "That's right, Mr. Kleinfelder. A few days ago our crime lab intercepted some chat messages from this lab. One of your students used a computer in this lab to solicit a minor. We believe the Miami Cyberkiller may have been using your system."

He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "Lieutenant Caine, I'm the head of the IT department, and I'm telling you that's impossible. I sweep these systems myself. There's no possible way we could be involved in this. Any student who misuses these systems is expelled."

Horatio stood before the man, hands on hips. Emmie Stockburne stood behind her boss and watched him expectantly. "You weren't thorough enough, Mr. Kleinfelder. Miss Stockburne?"

Emmie laid the printouts on his desk. He scanned them with disbelieving eyes. "You're sure this came out of this lab?"

"Miss Stockburne's our senior computer tech. She's worked with the FBI Cybercrimes Unit. We've got one girl dead and another one missing, and this matches the IP address, chat room, date and time that our two victims were chatting. That's probable cause and enough to get a warrant, Mr. Kleinfelder. Your lab may be harboring a serial killer, and I'm counting on your cooperation."

Craig Kleinfelder put his hand on his chin and rubbed his goatee nervously. "Of course I'll cooperate. I know about the Miami Cyberkiller. But you know what this could mean if word gets out about this?" he said sheepishly. "We could lose alumni support. Donations. We're on a shoestring budget as it is."

Horatio never flinched. "And if you don't cooperate, Mr. Kleinfelder, you're facing obstruction of justice and the harboring of criminal activity. That's five to ten easily. Now I want the names of every one of your students as well as who's been using these computers."

He handed the warrant back to Horatio. "You got it. Do what you have to."

"I intend to."

He watched as Emmie surveyed the computer lab, toolcase in hand. "There's at least fifty terminals in here. Are you gonna search them all?"

"Actually, I need to get into your switching room so I can read your internet traffic" Emmie said. "You have what, a ninety-day loop?"

"Yeah. But you know that's a lot of data."

She looked at him assuredly. "I know exactly what to look for."

* * *

><p>"Okay. We're just about done here for the night. Let's see that web page you created, and we can call it a night."<p>

Saphira plugged in her new flash drive and clicked keys. Emmie looked over the colors and the layout page by page. "Pretty good. So it looks like you're on your way."

"Yeah."

Silence.

"I'm not the only one who's having a crappy week, huh?" Saphira finally said, leaning tiredly on her hand and studying her mentor.

Emmie smiled slightly. She was determined to stay professional. "What kind of chain did you put in your platform?"

Saphira looked straight into her tired, vacant eyes. "So what happened? You and Ryan have a fight?"

She hated to admit it, but Emmie was taking a liking to her student. Besides, her will to fight was gone. "I guess you could say that."

The teen nodded at her laptop. "You took down his picture. What happened?"

The computer tech sniffed. "You don't need to know, Dear." But then it occurred to her. She felt like she should be there for Saphira, even if she was the only student. "Tell you what, Sweetheart. You tell me what happened first, and then I'll tell you my side."

With disgust Saphira clicked off her webpage and dipped her head, folding her arms. "It's Rae. I mean, we've been close since elementary school."

"So it looks like she won't be coming back, huh?"

"I don't know. Not sure, but I think she met some older guy, and now she's turning into Psycho-Bitch."

"What do you mean by 'Psycho-Bitch'?"

That self-assured exterior started to crack. "She never calls me anymore. She won't answer my texts. This weekend I went to the mall to look for her. I found her, but she just blew me off. We used to have a great time, but, well, she acted all pissed off that I'd bother her. And on top of that, she changed her email address and her cell phone number."

Emmie just listened. "What makes you think it's some guy?"

"Just guessing. Don't your friends ever blow you off when they meet a guy? Soon as my friends find a boyfriend, they just don't have time to hang around anymore. I sat behind her in the school computer lab just to see if I could say hi to her, but she wouldn't even look at me. One day the internet went down, and she just went schizo. She got detention for that. I don't care. I mean, it's funny. I always heard that love is supposed to make you nicer, not meaner."

The computer tech looked down tiredly. She felt like she shouldn't ask questions right now. "Yeah, that's the way it's supposed to work."

Saphira sadly leaned on her hand and stared up at her mentor. "Okay. I told you my side of it. Now tell me what happened with Ryan."

She sighed and looked down at the desk. "Well, the subject of marriage came up. He just thought things were going too fast with us. So he broke it off."

"How long were you going out?"

"Not quite a year."

"Emmie, I'm never getting married if this is what it's like."

"Saphira, don't ever say that."

"Why? It's so stupid. I want to talk to my mom about a lot of things, but she never has time. And she thinks if something goes wrong in my life, it's my fault. Nobody else's."

Emmie just leaned her hand on her chin. She had no words. "I think you're gonna make a good webpage designer one day."

She sniffed. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>Reagan Carlson pretended not to see the flashing icon on her task bar. Still, the red rectangle just kept blinking, refusing to be ignored.<p>

"Go away."

The red icon wouldn't stop blinking. Finally she clicked on it, and the black screen came to life.

HI RAE. I MISSED U

The girl could feel a churning in her stomach. He had her. She couldn't run to the bathroom or click off the program.

U WERE RIGHT. SORRY 4 THE WAY I TREATED U.

Not knowing what else to do, the blonde teen just stared at the screen.

"?"

DU 4GIVE ME?

What was she supposed to do? There were those pictures.

"THNX."

I WANT 2 MAKE IT UP 2U. LET U NO IM NOT SUCH A BAD GUY.

"HOW?"

I WANT 2 TAKE U OUT TO A PARTY FRIDAY NITE. NOTHING SPECIAL. WUD U COME WITH ME?

"WUT KIND OF PARTY?"

JUST A GET2GETHER WITH SOME FRIENDS. THERE'LL BE LADIES THERE 2. U WONT BE ALONE. DRINKS AT MY FRIENDS HOUSE. ILL PICK U UP.

"WHERE?"

SAME PLACE AS ALWAYS. WILL U COME?

"YA."

The screen stayed silent for a moment.

U TRUST ME?

"YA." Reagan knew she didn't have any other options.

GR8. FRI NITE AT 7. NO PARENTS. U WONT REGRET IT.

"OK."

REMEMBER. OUR LITTLE SECRET.


	19. Angel in my Wallet

**A/N: Minor spoilers for The Oath and Shattered.**

**"Heidi" is a generic name for Dutch girl. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19—Angel In My Wallet<strong>

Rick Stetler twirled his pen as he leaned his head on his hand, absorbed in his latest investigation when he heard a tap on his open door. He glanced up, rather annoyed, but then a huge smile crossed his face when he saw that it was Emmie. He motioned for her to come in. "Emmie. Come on in. Close the door behind you. Go ahead and have a seat."

She seemed more like an officer under investigation than his prospective fiancée as she closed the door. "No, thanks. I'm on my way home. This will only take a second. Are you free this weekend Sir, uh, Rick?"

_Come on, look into his eyes. Smile a little. Maybe he's not so bad. _

He leaned forward at his desk and clasped his hands together. "I'm always free for you."

"I spoke with my father last night. As you know, we're doing wedding preparations for my cousin up in New York. He says that if you can be at the Broward County Airport at eight on Saturday morning, you're welcome to fly up on the corporate jet with us so my parents can meet you. We have an extra room open at the Michaelangelo, and you can stay on the family's tab as long as you don't overdo it."

Rick's smile was broader and more confident, now that he sensed his patience paying off. "Tell your family I'll be there, and I won't disappoint them. Oh, before you go..." He reached down and produced a blue presentation folder. "Do me a favor and give that to your parents to look over." He reached forward and placed it in her hands.

She glanced down at it. "What's this?"

"My curriculum vitae. Contacts I have in New York and Washington. My family and my career with MDPD. Your family is probably gonna want to know all about me. You don't need me to tell you how important bloodlines are. Go ahead and look at it."

Emmie merely glanced at the blue folder. "With all due respect, Sir-"

"Rick" he insisted more firmly.

"-you're just coming up for the weekend to talk to them."

Looking a little annoyed, Rick came around from behind the desk, gesturing with his hands in front of him. "Emmie? Look, I know you're still hurting about what Ryan did to you, but before long you won't even remember him." He leaned on his desk and dipped his head to meet her eyes. "Think about it. You're not gonna have to work so hard. Maybe your family knows a good tax attorney who can help us manage the funds, and you're never gonna have to worry about anything again. You can go anywhere you want, do what you want. Tell you what. When the money comes through, I want you to treat yourself. Book yourself one of those Paris shopping trips. Haven't you ever wanted to do that?"

"Saturday morning, Broward Regional Airport."

"Tell your parents I won't disappoint them. Or you either." He glanced at his watch and scooped up his gray jacket. "Hold on. Since you're on your way out, let me just lock up, and I'll walk you out to your car."

"You don't have—"

Rick put his hand up. "No, no, I insist. Just give me a minute."

* * *

><p>As he stood on the walkway, Ryan closed his eyes and breathed in the warm evening air. It had been a rough afternoon, and he just had to step outside for a short break. Not in a talking mood, he kept his back turned to the two young lab techs who were giggling and chatting.<p>

"Hey, check it out. Is that Emmie Stockburne walking out with Rick Stetler?" he heard one of them say.

"Yeah."

The words shot through Ryan's heart like a lightning bolt. He glanced sideways, hoping nobody would notice him watching. Sure enough, that was Emmie. And that was Rick walking proudly next to her, looking almost like he wanted to put an arm around her.

"Hey Ryan, didn't you used to go out with her?" one of them finally asked.

Ryan looked down and sniffed, while deep down he wanted to take a piece of that metal railing and wrap it around Stetler's neck. "Used to. Guess she's on the rebound now."

He couldn't watch. Those whispers and giggles were too much for even the seasoned CSI to handle. His jaw tightened, and he was gripping that metal railing almost hard enough to snap it in half. The idea of Emmie giving Rick Stetler the attention she used to give him. Those gentle, loving back rubs and the romantic whispers that made him melt. Those playful hugs and kisses that made him feel so appreciated. Before he could think about Stetler having what was once his, he darted back to the lab and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. This was the last thing he needed right now.

As they stood next to her Blazer, Rick grasped her fingers with one hand and opened her door with the other. "I'll be in touch."

"Thanks."

_You'll be in touch? You sound oh so official. _

Emmie sat in the driver's side seat and faced him as he knelt down. Quickly and quietly he leaned forward and pecked her cheek. Thought it tightened her stomach, she gave him a tight smile.

"You're not nervous about getting married, are you?"

Emmie shook her head.

"Nothing to be scared of. Remember, I'm not just gonna help you get your estate. I'll be good to you. I really do care about you. You know, I've had feelings for you ever since you came here." He smiled now as he just kept gazing into her eyes. "Mrs. Stetler. I like the sound of that."

She nodded, more or less humoring him. "Thanks. Well, I better get home. Have a good night."

As she settled on her living room couch, her sad, tired green eyes just scanned the room. What was once her comfortable world now seemed so foreign. Her eyes fell on the picture of her with Ryan at the VIP Gala. There was no missing just how happy the two of them looked together. Finally she took the picture and put it in the top drawer of her desk, out of sight and out of mind. Ryan would never speak to her again, she thought.

Emmie sat back on the couch, leaning her face on her hands. She thought about Rick. He seemed to genuinely care for her. There were so many rumors flying around the lab about things he had done in the name of getting ahead—the trouble with Horatio and his sister-in-law, trumped-up marijuana charges against Delko. But they were just rumors.

_I can learn to love him. Besides, if Ryan hadn't just walked out on me, this wouldn't be happening._

* * *

><p>The man took another swig of his beer when the icon on his monitor flashed. Quickly he swallowed and slapped the bottle down.<p>

HEY NEED UR HELP. GOT TROUBLE.

WHAT KIND OF TROUBLE?

COPS HAVE BEEN SNIFFING AROUND. NEED U 2 DO SOMETHING.

WUT

GOTTA GET RID OF REAGAN. INVITED HER 2 A PARTY SATURDAY NITE.

SHE COMING?

HELL YEAH. GOOD THING I TOOK THOSE PICS. SHE WONT SAY NO.

2BAD. LOOKS LIKE SHE GAVE U A GOOD TIME. Y DU GET URSELF MIXED UP WITH THESE GIRLS?

There was only the blinking cursor. He had the feeling his friend wasn't amused by that.

NEED U 2 DO SOMETHING WITH HER.

NO SWEAT. SAME AS THE OTHERS?

The screen was silent again. It just occurred to him that he might have said too much.

OK. JUST TELL ME WHERE AND WHEN.

I'LL CALL U. JUST MAKE SURE U DON'T LET HER GET AWAY THIS TIME. TOOK A LOT OF HEAT WHEN COPS FOUND HEIDI.

HEY NOT MY FAULT.

More silence. Just that blinking cursor. He was sure his buddy didn't need to be reminded of that.

I'LL CALL U. BRING THE STUFF AND MAKE SURE UR READY.

THAT IT?

THERE'S 1 MORE. SHE HAS A BF SAPHIRA.

SO INVITE HER 2. TELL HER RAE'S COMING.

SHE WON'T ANSWER.

SO WUT DU WANNNA DO ABOUT HER?

MIGHT HAVE TO GO FIND HER. CAREFUL, WALLS HAVE EARS. COPS PROBABLY WATCHING US NOW.

DO THIS AND STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM THE GIRLS. DON'T NEED THIS. AFTER THIS GO GET LAID IN 1 OF THE CLUBS OR SOMETHING. U O ME BIG.

FRIDAY OK?

OK

With a new resolve, the man took another swig of his beer.


	20. No More Words

**Chapter 20—No More Words**

_No More Words_

_You tell me that you love me when you're looking away_

_No More Words. No more words and no more promises _ -Berlin, 1984

Rick took Emmie's hand and led her out of the posh restaurant and onto the noisy, busy Manhattan sidewalk. As the ocean winds met them, Rick's candy striped tie flapped over his shoulder. He smoothed it back into place and glanced at Emmie just in time to see that roseprint dress billow up and give him a glance at those muscular thighs. He was in Heaven for just a moment, at least until she smoothed her skirt down.

"So how was your meeting with my parents?" she wanted to know, holding her skirt firmly in place with one hand.

He smiled in a sort of a confused way. "We had to cut it short. Your father said they had another appointment, but I think they like me." He was scanning the busy, noisy sidewalk when he felt a pull on his hand. He looked back to see Emmie grimacing as she gripped her ankle. "You okay?"

She nodded, her eyes still closed in pain. "Feet are a little sore. Been standing up most of the day."

"I'll get us a cab back to the room."

Emmie didn't answer. Rick soon noticed that she was gazing at the black horse drawn carriage parked at the corner. He squeezed her hand gently. "Come on. It's a nice evening. Let's take a carriage ride."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, I guess that'd be nice."

The bearded carriage driver wore a top hat and Victorian-era suit. He stepped down and tipped his black hat to them. "Evening Sir. Ma'am. Where can I take you and the lady this fine evening?"

"A scenic ride to the Michelangelo" Rick said in a way that was meant to impress. The man delicately took Emmie's fingers and helped her step into the carriage. Rick discreetly paid him before he settled in next to her as the driver settled into the front seat and took the reins.

The rhythm of the horse's hooves in front and the gentle rolling of the carriage in the twilight had the desired effect Rick was hoping for. Emmie closed her eyes, like she was taking in the sights and sounds of Manhattan.

"Are you enjoying this?" he finally said, gently squeezing her hand.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Rick slipped his jacketed arm around her shoulder and looked into her eyes. Maybe she was just playing hard to get and expected him to coax her into that first kiss. Emmie was looking at him almost hypnotically, and he could see that her face was flushing. Tenderly he put a hand up to her face, leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, gently, slowly, again and again, more firmly each time. She smelled and tasted wonderful.

Emmie's mind went blank, and she could feel her skin crawl. She wanted to shrink back but couldn't. She could hear his heavy breathing as he held his lips to hers.

_Come on, you can do this. Just go with it. _

After what seemed like an eternity, Rick released her and looked softly into her eyes, stroking her hair. "I've waited a long time for that" he nearly whispered. Emmie gave him a tight smile, not sure what else to do. Tensely she looked down and away, resisting the urge to lean over and spit out his kiss.

"Like to come back to my room with me for a while? I ordered us some champagne" he said softly.

Emmie looked down and bit her lip. She was still reeling from that last surprise. Everything was just so strange, so confusing, and going so fast. "I, uh, appreciate it Sir, uh, Rick, but I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I'm actually a little tired."

"Relax, Emmie. Just drinks. And I was hoping we could make some plans."

"Well, uh, what kind of plans?"

He smiled. "Don't you think we should start getting to know each other?"

She looked down, feeling a little ashamed and guilty. "You promise that's all you're gonna want?"

Rick huffed. "I'd never make you do something you don't want to. When are you gonna stop being scared of me?"

"Sorry. Sure, I can come in for a little while."

"Good." He stroked her hair again. "Want another kiss?"

Before she could answer, he touched his lips to hers again. Without warning he deepened his kiss. She whimpered and her stomach knotted up as she tried to wiggle out of his grip. His eyes were shut and he breathed heavily as he kept exploring her mouth with his tongue.

_Oh God! Maybe I can get used to this. It's just gonna take some time._

* * *

><p>Frank Stockburne had quietly finished up his work in the board room of Stockburne Holdings and Properties. He now retreated into a quiet office and, with a firm resolve, opened his cell phone and punched in a speed dial number. Once again he fingered the rims of his glasses and breathed deeply.<p>

"John? It's Frank. Listen to me. I don't care how you do it. I don't give a damn what it costs. This is what we pay you for. I don't care who you have to suck up to or how many favors we have to call in. But dammit, Monday morning you get in that law library of yours and you find a way around that marriage clause in the trust before my daughter makes the biggest mistake of her life!" Angrily he pointed to the floor. "I'm _not_ gonna just stand by and watch her wreck her life by marrying that jackass! You hear me? Do whatever the hell it takes and find a way around it! This isn't gonna happen!" With that he clicked off his phone. There would be no argument.

* * *

><p>SLAP!<p>

Tears and sweat flew off Reagan's face as she shrieked in pain and terror, reeling back from the force and throwing her back against the hard, scratchy trunk lining. She now cowered under the dim light. "Please! Please stop it!" she sobbed through her hands.

The man's eyes blazed at her as he raised his hand. "You want another one? Then you better shut up! Don't touch anything. You scream and I'll give you something to scream about. Hear me?" Just to make his point, he picked her up by her sweaty, clammy neck and threw her down again before slamming the lid. "We're going to a party, Rae. It's gonna be a good old time!"

Contemptuously the man wiped her sweat off on his pants leg as he started his car. The old brown car rumbled to life as he pulled away from the curb. The heat lightning flickered across the South Florida sky as he drove down the pockmarked two-lane road. The man glanced in the rear view mirror, then checked his speedometer, making sure the cops would have no reason to pull him over. He hadn't brought any computer cables to tie this one up with, so he had to count on her being quiet.

Reagan's whole world was loud, scratchy and bumpy in that car trunk. In her fear she curled up in a fetal position and closed her eyes. Her sweaty, tear-soaked hair covered her face as she began to cry more loudly and helplessly over the noise. Reality was sinking in that this might be her last night on Earth.

"Mom?" she sobbed. "I love you. How could I have been so stupid?"

Through her sobs she noticed a green glow that danced and bumped around in the darkness. She grabbed it.

_Oh God, I don't believe this!_

He must have dropped his cell phone. Quickly her wet, trembling fingers pushed 911. Hope began to come back to her.

Nothing. She tried again. Must have been dead air. Not knowing what else to do, she quickly thumbed in Saphira's number.

"SAPH ITS RAE U GOTTA HELP ME"

Nothing. The blonde wiped her sweaty, tear-soaked hair from her face as she thumbed the words again. "Please answer me" she whispered over the noise of the car. "Saph, please? I'm sorry."

"SAPH PLS HELP ME IM IN A CAR TRUNK HES GONNA KILL ME"

Nothing.

"IT'S A BIG OLD BROWN CAR PLS CALL 4 HELP"

The man patted his waist and realized that his cell phone wasn't in its belt clip. Quickly he slammed on the brakes, slammed the car into park, and ran around to the trunk, opening it to see the very thing he didn't want to. The terrified girl looked up at him and hugged the phone. He cuffed her across the face and snatched it out of her grip.

"You stupid bitch! I'm gonna kill you slow!" he shouted as she cowered away from him, shrieking as she curled up as far from him as the musty trunk would allow. She could feel her stomach tighten as her mind went blank.

The man glanced at the screen and saw that she had been texting someone. Cops could track the phone's GPS. He dropped his phone on the pavement and held the trunk, stomping on it again and again, grunting each time, until it was just a pile of metal and plastic. Breathing hard, wracked on fear and adrenaline, he raised his hand to her wet, red face again. "You caused me enough trouble." He gathered himself and slammed the trunk. "You owe me big, man. I'm getting sick of this."

Curled up in a fetal position on the scratchy trunk lining, Reagan cried in the darkness again. She only hoped that her text had gotten through.


	21. A Means to an End

**Chapter 21—A Means To An End**

Rick Stetler proudly poured two glasses of clear champagne. "Here. The hotel recommended it." He handed one glass to Emmie. With a ladylike nod she accepted it. He then sat down on the plush blue sofa and glanced at the seat next to him. "Come on, Emmie. Sit down. Get comfortable."

Holding out her champagne glass, she gingerly sat down next to him, well enough away from him or his arm on the sofa back.

Rick then raised his champagne glass to her. "To our future?"

She never looked in his eyes as she silently held up her glass. He clinked glasses with her and sipped his champagne. "Mm. Excellent." He set his glass on the sturdy coffee table and began to caress her fingers again while he leaned closer to her, his face just inches from hers. "Now come on. We need to talk. Tell me. There's gotta be something on your mind. Something you want to do when your estate comes in."

Emmie shrugged as she shrank back. "Not really. I'm pretty simple. I don't need a whole lot. Got my computer equipment, my job…." She hesitated.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Well, do you ever think about settling down and having a family?" He smiled a little. "Might be some babies on the way?"

A chill went through her instantly. She gasped and yanked her fingers from his grip. He shook his head in confusion. "What? What did I say?"

Emmie folded her arms protectively and looked away. "Nothing!" Discreetly she caressed her belly with one hand.

He shrugged. "I just thought you'd like to have some heirs. If you don't like kids, that's fine too. We can do this any way you want."

Sullenly she leered at him. "I can't have children. But I wasn't expecting you to understand."

He put his hands up. "Sorry. I didn't know. Well, maybe you want to adopt? We can do that too. Emmie, I just want you to be happy."

Emmie tipped her head up when her cell phone chirped wildly, indicating she had an emergency call. She put her finger up and rummaged through her purse. She glanced at the caller ID. "I have to take this." She didn't wait for Rick's response as she flew out of his suite and down the hallway to her darkened room and clicked the button. "Saphira?"

Saphira sounded hysterical. "Emmie? Please help me" she said, sounding like she was out of breath.

She put up her hand. "Calm down. What's going on?"

"Rae sent me a text. She's in trouble and I didn't know who else to call."

"What did it say?"

The teen struggled to catch her breath. "It said that she's in a car trunk and that he's gonna kill her."

Emmie closed her eyes. "What? Oh my God!" She paused and put her hand over her face. "Okay, hang on, honey. You're gonna hear silence. I'm gonna get my boss on the line." With determined fingers she dialed Horatio's number. "Hey, Sir."

"Emmie? You all right?" Horatio wanted to know, sensing the urgency in her voice.

"Sorry to disturb you, but I've got Saphira Constantine on the line. She's one of my IT students. She said Reagan Carlson's been kidnapped. Hold on, Sir, I'm gonna bring her on the line." She hit the button again. Emmie bit her lip and clutched her cell phone with sweaty fingers as a tearful Saphira told Horatio what had been happening.

"Sir, I'm in New York, but I've got my laptop here." She could feel the old adrenaline rush coming back as she reached for her laptop and clicked it on. "Not a secure hotspot, but Saphira's got the number Rae texted on, and maybe we can GPS that phone."

"Emmie, I'm giving this over to the night shift" Horatio said in a not-to-be-argued-with tone. "You stay put, and I'll keep you posted. In fact, let me talk with Saphira."

"Yes Sir." With that she clicked off her phone.

For a long time Emmie stared at her cell phone and then at her flickering laptop. She wanted more than anything to jump through that cell phone, through that laptop, and work on this case, get back into that computer lab….

"I just called that girl 'honey'" she murmured, staring at the laptop again.

* * *

><p>Emmie took Rick's card key out of her purse and slid it in the lock. It spun, and she quietly clicked the door open. It sounded like Rick was talking to someone in the other room. Her back against the wall, she tipped her head down and listened.<p>

"Looks like it's going okay. She's being really standoffish, though. She was dating one of the CSI's in the lab, but he dumped her. Yeah. That's her. Think she's playing hard to get. She's costing me a lot of money, but I'll keep at it; just gonna take a little time. It'll all be worth it. The thrill of the chase, just like doing an investigation. Don't know. Met with her parents today. Yeah. Frank Stockburne. Stockburne Holdings and Properties." Rick had a smile in his voice. "Check your portfolio. Same one. When we get back to Miami, I might ask her if she just wants to go with me down to the courthouse and make it official, and then we can have the big wedding for the family later. Don't know why she'd say no. She's coming into some money in a few months. I should say _we're_ coming into some money. "

A sickening chill shot through her as she held her hand to her forehead.

"Money and a promotion. Not bad. Caine's not gonna jerk me around anymore. Uh, I don't know. She's been gone a while now. Said she had an emergency phone call. No, I don't know how much. That way she'll have the money free and clear. I mean, that's what she wants. I should ask her when she gets back."

Looking at the plush blue carpet, Emmie quietly and slowly slipped out the door, back down the hallway, and back into her darkened suite.

_Why did I ever trust him? I can't believe I let him kiss me. _

Before anything, she took a swig of the green mouthwash and rinsed out his kisses. She then squirmed out of her sundress and into some comfortable traveling clothes. She then clicked the keys of her laptop before packing it away and cramming her clothes into her burgundy rollaway.

* * *

><p>Emmie tapped on the door of her parents' suite. Her father opened it. "Sweetheart?" He glanced at her in her travel clothes and her rollaway. "What's going on?" He motioned for her to come in. "Here. Come on in."<p>

Emmie took a deep breath and towed her luggage behind her. "Hi Dad. I got a few minutes."

"I take it things didn't go so well with Rick."

"Do me a favor, all right? Please let Rick ride home on the jet tomorrow. I'm heading to LaGuardia to catch the redeye back to Miami." All her strength gone, she plopped down on her parents' bed and simply let the luggage fall. "Dammit, Dad, I really screwed things up."

Understandably her father sat down beside his daughter and put an arm around her. The two were silent for a few minutes.

"Emmie, parents have a strange way of knowing. When you were a baby, your mother and I knew you'd never be a socialite. You'd never be like your sisters. Your mother really tried to shoehorn you into this life, and well, we all know what happened."

She nodded against her father's chest, her eyes closed. "Yeah. Mom and I still don't talk."

"Tonight I called John and told him to do whatever it takes to get around that marriage clause. You're gonna get your money. One way or another. Hell, I feel terrible about what we put you through. By every right you should get every penny."

"Thanks, Dad. I realized tonight that whatever happens, I have everything I need. Sort of."

Her father smiled sadly. "Money and power make people do some pretty stupid things. Remember what we used to tell you girls? If you're not happy without it, you're not gonna be happy with it." He glanced toward the door. "Part of what I do as a CEO is read people. We knew right away Rick was all wrong for you. You're right. You have us, you have your friends at the crime lab…."

"I have a lot of apologizing to do."

"And for what it's worth, I really hope you can patch things up with Ryan. I've never seen you happier than when you were dating him."

Emmie shrugged. "I don't think he's ever gonna talk to me again."

"How do you know that? Come on, Sweetheart. You're a fighter, remember? Don't worry; we'll take Rick back to Miami. Go do what you have to do."

She hugged her father. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too. Now go. I'll see you back home."

* * *

><p>Emmie rolled her luggage along the hallway and tapped on the door of Rick's suite. He opened it, looking up and down in surprise at her travel clothes and her luggage. "Emmie? What's going on?"<p>

The computer tech still couldn't look into his eyes. "Sir, just wanted you to know. My folks will get you home on the jet tomorrow. I've got a flight back to Miami, so I'm catching a cab to LaGuardia. Thank you for dinner and for the carriage ride." With that she handed him his card key and quickly started down the hallway.

He shook his head and stepped out into the hallway. "Emmie? What happened? Where are you going?"

She never turned her head. "Back where I belong!"


	22. The Road from Nowhere

**I would like to thank everyone for their reviews-Mummacass, ajay1960, Lady-Buster, lilgenious.  
>Italics indicate flashback from my first work, More Than Just Words.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22—The Road From Nowhere<strong>

Normally the old, narrow, gray road was dark, quiet, and ignored. Now the area was swarmed with blinding spotlights, patrol cars, search helicopters, sniffing police dogs, uniformed police, and CSI's. Officers chatted in groups or fanned mosquitoes away from their faces as they searched the mud for anything that might be helpful. Everyone knew that this was their first big break in this high-profile case.

Horatio paced like a cat with his own cell phone to his ear, watching, motioning. "Bag and tag what's left of that phone, Delko! That's going straight to the lab! Gentlemen? Everything we find here is gonna be Priority One! No detail too small!" he yelled over the noise.

Delko knelt on the pavement and swept with his flashlight. The flattened, scattered metal and plastic reflected back at him. "Yep, this used to be a cell phone."

Calleigh walked alongside of him, holding her hair in place under the downdraft of helicopters and sweeping the gray pavement with her own flashlight. "Tread marks on both sides. Driver skidded to a stop, rolled forward, got rid of the cell phone, then took off again."

"Rolling forward! So something distracted him!"

"Or someone." She motioned toward the cracked gray housing. "I can definitely match up these tread marks." She knelt down and snapped photos.

With tweezers, Delko held up a tiny scratched card. "Cal, take a look at this! SIM card's in one piece!"

Calleigh leaned over and examined it. "Good as a fingerprint."

Horatio's red hair blew in all directions under the fanning of the search helicopters. With one hand over his ear, he dipped his head down. "Tyler, have you been able to track anything else to that number?"

Tyler watched the main monitor as cell phone numbers listed one by one. "She attempted to call 911 at eight-thirteen. Last phone call ended at eight-fifteen. That was the text message she sent to Saphira. Where you're standing is the last transmission from that number."

Horatio nodded slightly. "Not long before Saphira made that call to Emmie."

"It looks like Reagan attempted to make two 911 calls about a minute before that. She probably hit dead air. Not too many cell phone towers close by. She was finally able to get that text out."

"What direction was she going, Tyler?"

Tyler clicked keys again. "Doing a triangulation here. Hold on." He watched the monitor again as the map of cell phone towers came up. "Okay. Looks like they were heading south."

"Who owns that cell phone?"

Tyler watched the monitor as he typed again. "A Chip Melton."

"We got an address?"

"Yeah. Hold on." Tyler quickly read him the address. "He drives a 1978 Chrysler New Yorker. Dark chocolate. License number 329-PDX. Emmie put some notes in here that Frank and Ryan visited his house and found nothing that would get a warrant."

"Well that just changed. Thanks, Tyler." With that he clicked off his phone.

One hand over his ear, Frank met up with Horatio and Delko. "Lab able to tell you anything?"

"Cell phone belongs to a Chip Melton!" he shouted over the rumbling.

Frank furrowed his eyebrows. "Me and Wolfe just talked to him a few days ago!"

"Tyler confirmed that Reagan made the calls from his cell phone. Delko's getting the parts over to the lab right now to see if we can't find out who else Mr. Melton's been calling. Reagan mentioned in her text message that she was in the trunk of an old brown car."

"Chrysler New Yorker." He quickly took out his black radio. "Putting out a BOLO now."

"Do that, Frank" Horatio said. "And tell Search and Rescue to send those birds down the road. Mr. Melton's finally getting sloppy, and it's time to close in. Gentlemen? Our first priority is to find Reagan. Alive."

* * *

><p>It was two-thirty in the morning when the plane finally pulled up from the lights of LaGuardia and into the darkness. Emmie tiredly stared out the window as she held her throbbing head. The plane rumbled and jerked in the turbulence.<p>

_How could I have been so damned stupid? _

If she could have one wish right now, it would be to die instantly. A tear rolled down her face as she wondered how she could have forgotten all of her friends and tried to go back to the life that she had despised.

_I can't believe I let him kiss me like that. I feel so dirty. _

It made her stomach knot up to think about how she pressured Ryan to make the biggest decision of his life, all just to get her money. Her mood and her hopes matched the bumpy, painful darkness that loomed outside the plane's window.

The flight attendant stopped in front of her with the serving cart. "Ma'am, would you like something to drink?"

Her eyes fell on the can of Diet Sprite. But the thought of Rick Stetler doing everything he could, even offering her that Diet Sprite at the beach, was still fresh in her mind.

"Just some ice water please" she said quietly.

Emmie sipped some of her water and swished it around in her mouth before swallowing, still feeling dirty from Rick's kisses. She took some aspirin to try to calm her headache. Nothing to do but stare out at the blackness again. No internet to take her mind off everything that had happened. In the dim light of the cabin she clicked on the little TV screen in the seat in front of her. It was better than nothing. Just some news. But then something caught her attention.

"On the national scene, one girl is known to have been murdered and another missing and feared dead by a serial killer has been terrorizing the Miami area. This killer has been luring teenage girls through online chat rooms and then meeting them at local malls. But tonight sources say there may possibly be a third victim. Miami-Dade Police are on a frantic search for seventeen-year-old Reagan Carlson who disappeared from a local mall this afternoon. It's been confirmed that Reagan was sending text messages to a friend and even attempted to dial 911 while in captivity."

_Great. Didn't take the news long to be all over this. _

"Take a look behind me, and you'll see live feed from our Miami affiliate of the field where Reagan Carlson last texted a friend of hers. This normally secluded stretch of road is now swarming with police dogs and search teams, desperate to find any lead in Reagan's whereabouts. Bear in mind, this has been a very frustrating case because at this moment Miami police and the FBI have few leads, as the killer has been very skillful at hiding his identity. If you'll recall, eighteen-year-old Liesel Matthews was found raped and strangled several weeks ago, while seventeen-year-old Nicole Olson is still missing. It's confirmed that both girls had been chatting on line, and it's believed that they were lured by the same killer, someone they trusted. Police aren't giving many details about Reagan Carlson's disappearance, but will say only that they're very concerned because it was thought that she too has been chatting with someone who may be the Miami Cyberkiller."

In sadness and disgust, Emmie clicked off the monitor. She leaned her head against her hand and, in her sadness and exhaustion, finally drifted off to sleep.

Somewhere in the reaches of her mind she remembered her first night at the Portside Restaurant with Horatio. It was a time when she was full of hope and new beginnings.

"_Thanks for taking me here, Sir. This is a beautiful view. I'd love to go on one of those cruise ships one day." She broke into her musical laughter. "Oh, and thank you for the rude sound effects CD. Would you believe Tyler and I used it to test the AV equipment? It has the full range of sound levels, so it's perfect for that."_

_The Lieutenant smiled. "Actually I would."_

"_We had a ball with it! I gave Eric Delko a copy on my microcassette recorder." She could barely contain her laughter. "He stuck it in Frank Tripp's desk. I heard somebody came by and left him a bottle of Gaviscon!" _

"_So are you adjusting to Miami okay, Emmie?" Horatio asked._

_She nodded thoughtfully. "I think it'll all be okay. If I didn't learn about adjusting by now, there's no hope for me. I mean it was a long, hard road last year, between losing my home and my husband, having to leave the FBI."_

_After dinner Horatio led Emmie out to the deck to watch the sunset over the Miami harbor. "I think you'll adjust."_

"_I think you're right." She smiled. "I'm now just beginning to dream again. It feels great."_

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? We're begging our descent into Miami. At this moment we're about forty miles from Miami International Airport, and the captain says we should be at the terminal in thirty minutes. At this time we request that you fasten your seatbelts and place your seats in their upright positions. Thank you."

The cabin lights and the sound of the loudspeaker pierced her sleep. Emmie stirred and reflexively groped for her seatbelt, fastening it without opening her eyes. She squinted as she let her eyes adjust to the cabin lights.

The lights of Miami were starting to appear in the darkness in front of the plane. The eastern sky was just beginning to glow, signaling a new day and a new beginning.

"A long, hard road" she whispered to herself, staring out the window at the new daylight. "It's gonna be a long, hard road. But I know where I belong."

For the first time in weeks, Emmie felt that sadness and anxiety fall away, replaced with that old determination. It was time to dream again.


	23. The Ride

**Chapter 23—The Ride**

As Emmie tapped up the steps to the front entrance, her head swam and her heart quaked thinking about what she would say to everyone. In her deep thought she looked up to find herself just inches from a familiar pair of sunglasses.

"Hey Sir" she said tentatively. "Sorry. Didn't mean to run into you."

Horatio gathered himself. "That's all right, Miss Stockburne. Grab your field kit and be out by the Hummer. Mr. Melton and Reagan are still missing, but we have a warrant to search his residence. Because he designs web pages for a living, we can't remove his computer. Instead you're going to have to mirror the hard drive and bring it back for analysis here at the lab."

Her fears went away as the combat-ready Marine in her came back. "Yes Sir. Be right out."

Horatio softened up his look as he took off his sunglasses and fingered them. "Although you realize this is Mr. Wolfe's case, so you'll have to ride out with him."

Emmie smiled sadly. "Sir, please don't let that bother you. I hope you know me better than that."

Her boss looked at her confidently. "I always did. Tyler will work all other cases until I say otherwise. And Emmie? Whatever happens between you and Ryan, make sure you forgive yourself first."

* * *

><p>Instead of assuming her graceful military stance next to the Hummer, Emmie leaned numbly against the Hummer's sun-heated door as she waited for Ryan to come out. She held her makeshift field kit tightly with her left hand, staring at the ground.<p>

Ryan walked out to the Hummer with his field kit and a guarded look on his face. "Ready?"

Her eyes met his for a second. She nodded slightly.

There were no sounds except the rumble of the Hummer over the old neighborhood roads. Neither said a word for what seemed an eternity. She glanced at Ryan out of her peripheral vision. He simply stared ahead at the road and turned the wheel.

Emmie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Ryan? Please forgive me for everything I did to you for the last couple of weeks. Everything I said to you and everything I did to you. My life's been hell, and if you didn't want to ever talk to me again, I'd understand." There! She'd finally said it.

Silence.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she stared out the window. Ryan Wolfe was just another one of her co-workers again. It was too painful for her to think about.

Ryan brought the Hummer to a stop outside the small blue house. Several patrol cars sat outside as uniformed officers walked around, checking for anything that might be helpful.

"Ready?" he asked quietly, not looking at her.

She nodded.

Officer Jessop met them at the door. "Hey Wolfe. Emmie. Scene's clear."

Ryan nodded and motioned to the makeshift desk and piles of CD's and wires. "Sweep and mirror the hard drive. Collect and bag all the storage media because we're gonna need to analyze everything. I'll be in the back clearing the last room. Tripp's supposed to be here any minute" Quietly Ryan walked down the hallway with his kit and flashlight.

Methodically she snapped on her latex gloves before plugging in her black external drive and typing in her bypass code. As the monitor flashed pictures and listed codes, she took out her pad and scrawled field notes, careful to note anything about the computer and its setup in general.

Emmie became aware of a cold hard object shoved against her temple, pushing her head sideways. She gasped as adrenaline shot through her system.

"Put it down!" a voice rasped. "Put your hands where I can see 'em. You make a sound and I'll blow your head all over this room."

Reality sank in that someone was holding a gun barrel to her head. She couldn't fight. Her heart pounded as she took her hands off her external drive. Trembling now, she raised her hands almost to shoulder level as she saw a hand reach under her raised elbow and yank the external drive out of the computer.

"Get up slowly."

Slowly Emmie rose to her feet. He dug the muzzle into her face firmly enough to cause pain now. She felt him grab her hair and stand her up completely with one hand, yanking her head back. Her head whipped back and caused the mystery man to shove the gun barrel forward of her face. She tried to grab his arm but he was too quick for her.

"_Ryan!" _

Her whole world jerked and went numb when she felt the _Boom! Boom_! of the gun barrel against her cheekbone, hard enough to knock her sideways, stunning her. She cried out.

Emmie's scream awakened the police officer in Ryan. He yanked out his weapon and bolted into the living room where he and Jessop stood with their guns drawn, only to be met with Chip Melton pulling Emmie backward by her hair.

"Police! Drop it!" Jessop ordered, his weapon trained on them.

"I'll kill her!" he snarled, shuffling her back toward the front door. Emmie's desperate green eyes looked at Ryan, but neither of them could do anything.

Within seconds even more officers swarmed down on them, guns pointed at him, ordering him to let her go and drop his weapon.

"Shoot me? And I'll shoot her!" he screamed at them. His gun still at her now reddened face, he pulled her backward step by step to his brown car, never taking his bloodshot, desperate eyes off the officers. He held his gun out at them as he opened the trunk. "Get in there!" he hollered as he pushed her in and slammed the lid. He then sidestepped, gun out at the officers, into his car. The old New Yorker rumbled to a start and then squealed away from the curb in a trail of tire smoke.

Chip Melton floored the accelerator as he gripped the wheel tightly enough to whiten his knuckles. At the end of the block two patrol cars pulled in front of him and more officers stood on either side, guns trained on him, ready to fire. Two more cars brought up the rear.

"_No!"_ He screeched to a halt and slipped out of the car again, back to trunk, and held his gun at the side.

By now a half dozen officers had crowded around Chip Melton and more were on the way. Frank Tripp and Ryan crept closer, guns facing their shaking target.

"Drop it, Chip! You're not going anywhere!" Frank yelled.

Chip Melton held his gun to the side of the old car, next to the gas tank. "Come on! Do it!"

Ryan took deep breaths. He knew Emmie was in there, helpless to do anything. He glanced at that shaking hand that at any second could fire a round through that gas tank, turning the car, himself, and Emmie into a giant fireball, that round quite possibly into her head. But he couldn't flinch. _Come on, give it up, drop it. Do something. Just don't hurt her. _

"You're not getting out of here! It's over!" Frank warned him again.

He still held his gun to the gas tank. It shook now as he began to sob.

"It's over, Chip" Frank said again.

Chip was clearly losing control. Gun still in hand, he leaned his weight on the trunk. "Damn right it's over. You're damn right it's over!" he sobbed. In a split second he raised his weapon at them, only to be met with a hailstorm of bullets. Tripp and Ryan fired, well away from the trunk, careful not to hit Emmie. Chip Melton convulsed as blood spurted from his chest and shoulder. There were a few seconds of silence before he collapsed on the trunk, bouncing it under his deadweight. He slid down, leaving a trail of blood and landed on the street, the gun just inches from his hand.

Ryan and Frank wasted no time as they bolted toward the blood-smeared car. "Get her out of there!" Frank ordered as he kicked the gun away from Chip's hand. Other officers descended on the car, helping Ryan pull the trunk open.

Emmie lay face down, covering her head with her arm, not responding. Ryan reached in. "Emmie? You okay?"

Slowly she lifted her gloved, sweaty, trembling hand. "Uh huh." Ryan reached down and carefully wrapped his arms around her and pulled her out, standing her weakly on her feet. "Can you stand up by yourself?"

"I think I better sit. Thanks."

Gently and tenderly Ryan sat her down on the curb. She took deep breaths and hung her head. Ryan knelt in front of her.

"Somebody bring me an ice pack and some water!" he shouted in the other direction. "We're gonna have Rescue check you out."

"Would you please sit with me?" she said to the pavement in front of her.

Police scrambled to put up a yellow screen to shield the rest of the neighborhood from the grisly crime scene as Frank now stormed back toward the house. "What the hell happened in there? I thought you said that scene was secure! Where'd he come from?" His voice faded in the distance.

Ryan sat quietly next to Emmie, who stayed slumped over, just looking at the gray pavement. He wanted to touch her, to hug, her, to comfort her. As a police officer and CSI, Ryan Wolfe could handle a lot of things, but he couldn't handle his warrior princess broken and hurting like this. Still, he knew she was evidence in a new crime scene and couldn't touch her. That redness on her cheek was more obvious. "How's your face?"

"Hurts."

Another officer handed her a blue ice pack. He put it up to her face. "Here you go. Ambulance is on the way. I think you better get that checked out." Emmie winced and squirmed in pain, but eventually he could hold it firmly to her face.

For a long time, both of them sat silently. Ryan just watched her. "I almost lost you today" he finally said.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"Did I lose you?"

He bowed his head silently.


	24. Too Tough to Die

**A/N: Contains spoilers for "Nailed" and "Kill Switch".**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24—Too Tough To Die<strong>

Frank Tripp was still strung out on adrenaline when he stormed into the house at a dumbfounded Aaron Jessop.

"Hey! You see what the hell happened out there? When you say the scene's secure, you're supposed to damn well mean it!" he bellowed, pointing behind him. "We had a shootout in a residential, a hostage situation and damn near lost one of our techs! And now Stetler's gonna be all over us!"

The young officer shook his head. He had seen what happened. "I don't know where he came from, Tripp! I swear, we searched this whole house and the grounds!" he stammered.

Frank knew that kill shot would more than likely land him on administrative duty pending an investigation. "Yeah? Well he came from somewhere! If I were you I'd start looking again!"

More uniformed officers came into the already disheveled house to help in the search, peering in closets, behind furniture. Frank looked in the dusty kitchen closet in the back. A strange sound caught his attention.

"Hey, get over here! Anybody else hear this?" He motioned with his arm.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Jessop leaned in. "Yeah, I hear it." He then nodded at the back wall. "Take a look at that."

Along the back wall was a pantry shelf that held faded, dusty soup cans and bags of ramen noodles. The food itself hadn't been touched, but the shelf had obviously been moved back and forth several times, judging from the scratches on the old linoleum floor.

"Gimme a hand with this" Frank ordered. He and the young officer pulled the shelf out of the way.

"You mean to tell me you guys missed this?" Frank demanded.

This was definitely another door. No knob. With two fingers Frank gave it a jab. The wall bounced back and opened up to reveal another dark room. Cautiously he peered inside.

The walls looked like they were covered in fresh concrete. Two steps led down to a concrete walkway. It was pitch dark. This had to have been built recently.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Frank lowered his head. "There somebody back there?" he shouted.

"_Please help me!" BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"Sounds like a girl." Jessop said. "Hey, you don't think…."

* * *

><p>Emmie's head was throbbing now, between the Florida heat, the swelling on her cheek, and the stench of the old brown car in her nostrils. Still holding the cold pack on her face, she slowly turned her head to see where she had been.<p>

The weathered, dented New Yorker had screeched to a halt in the middle of the road. The driver's side door still hung open. Residual blood spatter covered the back window and the trunk. Some dripped off the bumper, forming a pool next to Chip Melton's body. He now lay prone in a spreading black pool, his sleeping, blood-soaked face looking directly almost at her. His blonde hair was stringy and greasy, and he looked as though he hadn't shaven for days. She could see the pain on his face, as though in some odd way he was apologizing to her. The fear became a strange sort of pity as she studied him. Through it all, he was a kid. A scared, desperate kid.

"Sorry you had to sit next to the body for so long" Ryan said quietly.

She sniffed. "I'm a Gulf War vet. Remember? At least he's in one piece."

"Well, ends up this is a whole new crime scene, and you became evidence when that guy threw you in the trunk. Calleigh's on the way over to process you." He glanced behind him at the sound of footsteps. "Oh, hey. Here she comes with Alexx."

Calleigh proceeded to snap pictures of the car and its dead driver. "Just a few more, Alexx, and he's all yours."

Alexx simply took off her sunglasses and stared at Emmie sitting by the curb, nursing her face. "Looks like somebody got more than she bargained for today." As soon as Calleigh moved back, the M.E. leaned down and examined Chip Melton, holding his head in her gloved hands, tipping him from side to side. "I don't have to look hard to find the COD."

With two gloved fingers, Calleigh picked up the bloodstained gun. "A .38 Snubnose. Haven't seen one of these in a while." She then proceeded to snap pictures of the blood-spattered car.

Horatio stood by wearing his sunglasses and scanning. "Calleigh. Alexx. Mr. Wolfe. What have we got on our second crime scene?"

Alexx had gently turned Chip Melton over now. With her gloved finger she pointed to the blood spatters on his shoulder and ribcage. "Guy definitely went down fighting. I've counted ten rounds in the chest and shoulder."

"Suicide by cop. Alexx, when you get him back to the lab, make sure you take out all the rounds."

She looked up. "Will do, Horatio."

"Mr. Wolfe, you know IAB is going to want to talk to you and Frank."

Ryan nodded slightly. "Yeah, that's what I figured."

"Ryan's not in trouble, is he?" Emmie asked weakly from the curb.

"Standard procedure, Emmie" an old familiar voice said. "Your firearm, Wolfe."

"Nice of you to show up, Rick" Horatio said.

IAB agent Rick Stetler smirked at Horatio. "Procedure, Horatio. You should know that." He stood over them, holding his hand out expectantly to Ryan. Without a word, the young CSI leveled his eyes at him as he cleared his firearm and placed it in Rick's hand.

Rick glared at Ryan as he collected the 9 millimeter. "You're on administrative duty as of now pending the investigation, Wolfe. You're gonna need to leave the scene. Now."

"What about Emmie?"

"She needs to be chaperoned by a female officer. Departmental policy. Calleigh can take care of her."

Emmie dipped her head and closed her eyes. Rick Stetler was the last person she wanted to see right now.

"See you back at the lab Ryan. I'll take it from here" Calleigh said as she knelt down next to the injured computer tech. "Glad to see you two are talking again. I'm gonna need you to take that ice pack off your face."

Emmie moved the ice pack. It just occurred to her what might have happened when she was in that car trunk. "Calleigh, did Ryan take that guy down?"

"I don't know" she said in a hushed voice. No police officer could stand the idea of a colleague under an IAB investigation no matter what the reason.

"I just wanted to know if he saved my life again."

Calleigh refused to discuss the subject as she studied the swollen red patch under Emmie's right eye. "Wow. He got you good, didn't he? Turn and face me." Calleigh snapped her picture before standing to Emmie's side and snapping a profile shot. "Gonna need you to peel those latex gloves off for me. Those are gonna make my job a lot easier. You okay?"

Emmie nodded slightly. Reality was beginning to set in. "I'll be all right."

Calleigh took out some plastic evidence bags. "I'm also gonna need your clothes."

"Hope you brought some spares."

"Hope you like red scrubs. The medics are gonna check you out first, and then I'll process you over in that white van. Little more privacy there."

Ryan was walking away minus his firearm, he couldn't help but notice Rick Stetler leering at Emmie while medics checked her heartbeat, shone a flashlight into her eyes, and positioned another cold pack over her face.

"Mr. Wolfe. She asked for you."

Slowly Ryan turned to see Horatio standing behind him, fingering his sunglasses sympathetically. "Yeah. I know, H."

This time the redheaded lieutenant had a sadness about him. "I remember when someone I loved asked for me. I got there just in time before she was gone. You were lucky."

"Yeah. I was, wasn't I?"

Horatio moved in closer to emphasize his point. "She hasn't given up on you."

Those words meant something to Ryan. It came back to his mind how his boss had fought to get him reinstated after the gambling incident, despite the impossible odds. He turned around slowly. "Like you didn't give up on me."

"I'll say it again. If we don't hang together, we die alone. This is really hurting her. But she's smart, and she won't let herself hurt for long."

Ryan just dipped his head now. He had no words.

"I think you know what to do, Mr. Wolfe."

"Hey! Get Rescue in here!" Frank hollered from the front door, piercing through the noise.

Noise died down as all heads turned in his direction. Hand on weapon, Horatio immediately started for the door.

"Frank?"

Frank Tripp had a much more confident look now. "We found them!"

"Nichole and Reagan?"

"Alive."


	25. Rescued

**Chapter 25—Rescued**

"This is Erica Sykes reporting for WCVS in Miami, where we're following a developing story. If you're just tuning in, we're reporting that the Miami Cyberkiller is confirmed dead, killed in a shootout with local police. You'll see behind me that just hours ago, this city street erupted in chaos when the suspect believed to be the Miami Cyberkiller kidnapped a crime scene investigator and threw her into the trunk of his 1978 Chrysler New Yorker. The CSI has treated and released with minor injuries. The two girls, Nicole Olson and Reagan Carlson, are being taken to the hospital where they'll be united with their families. It seems the two girls had been kept in what police believe is a recent addition to the suspect's house. We don't have too many details at this time, but we'll keep you updated as this story unfolds. Tonight the city of Miami can breathe easier. Cyberkiller is dead, and both Nicole Olson and Reagan Carlson have been found alive."

"Cut!"

Erica huffed and glanced behind her. The small street that had once been lined with police cars had now been crowded with news trucks.

"Hey, zoom in on the street there. I want some footage of the blood."

* * *

><p>Horatio stepped into the ambulance and sat down across from Nicole and Reagan. Both girls were pale, each with her arms defensively across her sweaty, dirty chest, and her knees tightly together. Their matted, stringy hair hung over their faces like curtains as they each huddled in blankets that medics had given them. He dipped his head with a quiet anger. He knew what had been done to them.<p>

Nicole was the paler of the two, her skin not having seen the sun for several weeks. In Horatio's presence, they gripped each other's sweaty, trembling fingers, evidence that they'd formed a bond in the last day or two. Even in their fear, both girls could sense that they were safe now, and Horatio was determined to carefully, patiently help as he looked into their bloodshot eyes. A female officer sat next to them dutifully.

"Reagan? Nicole? I'm Lieutenant Horatio Caine with Miami-Dade Crime Lab. I just want you to know that you're both safe now" he said softly.

A fresh wave of tears came over Reagan. Tenderly he handed her a Kleenex.

"Medics are going to take you to the hospital, but first I just have to ask you a few questions. Is that okay?"

Both girls nodded.

"The blonde-haired man who lived in that house. Was he the one who kidnapped you?"

Nicole despondently shook her head.

"Reagan?"

"No. He took me here, but I never saw him before that."

"I see. Can either of you describe whoever kidnapped you? Take your time."

Reagan pushed her hair out of her face and breathed deeply. "The guy's name was Keith."

"Keith?"

She nodded.

"He said his name was Jason, and that he was from Colorado Springs" Nicole sobbed. "But he was tall, had curly black hair and a beard."

Horatio furrowed his eyebrows. "Reagan? Is that what Keith looked like?"

She nodded sheepishly.

"Did he ever give you a last name or an address?"

Both girls shook their heads sadly. Horatio nodded knowingly as they gripped each other's fingers, determined to get through this together.

"Would you be able to identify him if you saw him again?"

Both girls nodded in a way that let him know that he had two credible witnesses. With a new resolve he stood up. "Ladies, I want you to go to the hospital now. We're going to call your families. They're going to meet you there. I'm going to recommend you get counseling."

"And…" Reagan began.

Horatio paused. "What is it, Reagan?"

"Something to eat?" A fresh wave of tears washed over her. "I'm real hungry."

Nicole closed her eyes painfully. "We haven't had anything to eat for days."

The Lieutenant nodded. "I don't have anything with me. But as soon as you get to the hospital, they'll get you something to eat." With a new resolve he stepped out of the ambulance and opened his cell phone. "Calleigh? Horatio. You and Delko get over to the University of Miami. We need to talk to Craig Kleinfelder."

* * *

><p>Ryan walked slowly alongside Emmie while she held a fresh cold pack on her cheek. By this time she did it more to cover the bruise on her face than any other reason. She tipped her head down painfully. "You're not gonna get in trouble for this, are you?"<p>

"When Stetler put me and Frank on the rubber gun squad, he said we couldn't work the case or discuss the investigation. Nobody said anything about driving you home."

"How are you gonna get back?"

"You let me worry about that."

Both of them stopped to see Frank Stockburne and John Newbaugh at her door.

"Dad? John?"

Both of them looked at her in surprise. "Emmie? Ryan? What happened?" Her father's surprise turned to shock as he saw the cold pack on her face and the red scrubs she was wearing.

"Hi Frank" Ryan said. "It's nothing. Emmie had a little accident at work. She just got finished up over at the urgent care clinic. I'm just taking her home to rest up."

"Things kind of went bad when I had to help clear a crime scene. Don't worry, they killed the guy."

Both men just looked at her, not sure whether she was telling the truth. "Well, uh, we were just coming by to give you some news. Got a minute, or should we come back?"

Her head down, Emmie just walked past them and pushed her door open. "I'm not sure I could handle any more bad news today."

John smiled a little. "Don't worry, Emmie. I think you'll like this."

Ryan let Emmie lie on the couch where he stuffed a pillow under her head. "Should I step out?"

Frank Stockburne shrugged. "It's family business. But I'll leave that up to you."

Ryan waited in the kitchen respectfully while her father brought two chairs up to the couch, letting John sit in one while he sat down in the other. John was carrying another red portfolio.

"Sweetheart, John has something to tell you."

Emmie closed her eyes painfully. "I'm listening."

John smiled as he opened his portfolio and scanned over a piece of paper. "Actually Emmie, you're not the only one who had it rough today. I did what your father asked me to. I called in every favor I could from here to Kingdom Come, filed every briefing I could in a day's time. I didn't expect to get an answer this quickly, but hey. Sometimes you just get lucky. So, if you agree to the terms, the court's gonna arrange you an honorarium. The fact that the codicil is so dated and that you're a Navy widow is definitely in your favor. See, you're a test case. Nobody in the family has ever been in this position." He slipped on his glasses. "So, you ready?"

She nodded quietly.

"When you're thirty-five and six months. Three million in cash and stock options. Unfortunately, no land holdings. Too many technicalities and legal landmines for that. But I'll put you in touch with a good investor, and you could quit your job and live off the interest. I'll leave the paperwork with your parents up at the house. Call me when you're ready so we can look it over, so you can sign it. Once that's done, I'll file it with the court. The sooner the better, okay?"

She sat there digesting the information. "Thanks, John. Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome" her dad said, gently patting his daughter's leg. "So it worked out after all."

"But I'm not quitting my job."

Both gentlemen now looked at her with surprise. "Not even after what happened today?" John asked.

"Dad will tell you. I'm right where I belong. But I'm not an idiot. I'll definitely take the money." She reached her arm out to John and her father. "God, if I could hug you I would."

John started to get up. "No Emmie, you just rest. Frank, should I meet you back at the house?"

"Yeah, go ahead, John. I'll be there in a minute."

"Me too." Her father stood up to leave. "Will you be okay by yourself tonight?"

She nodded. "I'll just eat something and probably go straight to bed. Some aspirin should help this."

And Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, Sweetheart."


	26. Damaged Goods

**A/N: I would like to thank ajay1960, lilgenious, mummacass, and anyone I might have forgotten for your reviews. You gave me ideas I never would have imagined on my own. **

**Contains spoilers for "Nailed" and "Shattered."**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 26—Damaged Goods<strong>

After Emmie's father had left, Ryan let out a big huff as he stood in the kitchen, his hands resting on his head. He tried to rehearse what he'd say to her—again and again. Finally, as he stepped back out, Emmie simply glanced up at him for a second. Now both were silent for what seemed an eternity. His heart pounded as he stood over her.

"Thanks for taking me to the doctor" she finally said. "It's getting late. Maybe you better go now."

"Do _you_ want me to go?"

Emmie stayed silent. Gingerly he sat on the couch next to her. Those cutting words he had said in the parking lot haunted him. She had every right to want him out of her life forever, he reasoned. He closed his eyes, fearful of her response. "Emmie, I know you don't want to talk. Look, just tell me if you don't want me anymore, and I'll never bother you again."

Silence. He wished she'd say something, cry, slap him, kick him out, anything. Instead she gave off that desperate silence. Finally he hung his head, just like he saw her do that horrible night.

"I was scared" he said to the floor.

"Scared of what?"

"It's my eye."

"What about your eye?"

"I've had problems since I took that nail in my eye. I could lose my sight, and then I could lose my job." He paused. "You deserve to have a man you can depend on. You don't need to be stuck taking care of a blind cop." _You could at least look at me. _

She never took her eyes off the floor. "To me you were always Ryan Wolfe. Never once did I think of you as a blind cop. And so what if you are? Whoever said taking care of you would be a problem?" With a tired hand she reached out like she wanted to touch his hair but just couldn't. Ryan took her hand and put it over his brown hair, savoring the feeling. He'd missed that. That tough-talking Marine had such a tender, loving touch that made him feel so appreciated. He now turned toward her and tenderly put his hand up to her face. "I—Emmie, I said some things—"

She couldn't help it anymore. She turned toward him and cried uncontrollably into his shoulder, her arms tightly around his neck. Ryan held her and gently shushed her, almost swaying her to calm her. "Let it out" he whispered into her ear. "I pushed you away when you really needed me. I felt bad all this time. I'm sorry, Emmie."

Emmie took deep breaths to control her sobs. "I never should've put that pressure on you" she sobbed into his tee shirt. "Can we just forget this ever happened?"

Ryan seemed to want to cry himself. "I'd like that."

She had her arms wrapped around his neck more tightly, so much that Ryan feared she might suffocate him, and she was strong enough to do it. With his own strong arms he loosened her grip on him. "What about your estate?"

"John and my dad just told me that I won't have to get married. I just won't get the whole amount, but that's fine." She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "God, that trust caused me more headaches…. I've always had everything I need right here. Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not the only one who feels damaged."

"What are you talking about?"

Slowly and weakly Emmie stood up and walked to her gray file cabinet, opening drawers and rifling through folders. "After what happened today I found myself thinking a lot about this. I know it's in here." She finally walked back with a wrinkled piece of paper, handing it to Ryan. "You and my family will be the only ones who know about this. I never told anybody" she said quietly, eyes averted.

Ryan glanced at the DEPARTMENT OF THE NAVY CERTIFICATE OF DEATH banner. "I don't get it. Everybody already knows you're a widow."

"Keep reading. This is a different one."

Ryan's eyes scanned down the page to the words _Qualls, Infant Male_. The cause of death was listed as hypoxia due to exsanguination. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at her again. "You're a mother?"

"_Was_ a mother. For about half an hour. He had a name, by the way. Christopher James Qualls."

Ryan shifted over and put an arm around her. "What happened?"

Emmie looked distant now. "Placenta previa. In my ninth month I woke up at four in the morning. Blood gushing out of me. I was so weak I could barely dial 911. They got me to the hospital, knocked me out, and delivered Chris by C-section. But they just couldn't stop the bleeding. They gave me an emergency hysterectomy. They said I was in surgery for three hours or so. They saved me, but they couldn't save Chris. I told them to let me go if it would save Chris, but just the opposite happened." She shook her head and put a hand over her face. "I never saw my son. Because of the bleeding, he'd suffocated in me. Dex was on another one of his damned training exercises, so he never saw him either. After that it was like being married to a ghost." She then caressed her belly. "You probably get so tired of me talking about him."

Ryan put a hand on her shoulder. "No. You had a life before you met me. And none of this was your fault."

"I know that. But to hear other people talk..." She wiped her eyes again and gathered her thoughts. "A week later I came home to a house full of baby furniture and toys. And Dex had to leave again, so I had to lie on the couch by myself and stare at them all day. Some of the other wives packed them up and gave them to a charity for me."

Ryan could see the pain in her eyes. He reached for her Kleenex box and put it in front of her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I tried the aging software to see what Chris might look like now, but it was just too damn depressing. Sometimes I think, well, if he lived, he'd be in second grade right now. I wonder if he might have my love for computers or if I could've homeschooled him. No, that death certificate is the only proof I have that my baby ever existed. I wonder if he got to see me. Even just for a second." A fresh wave of tears came over her. "No, a death certificate and a scar the size of the Equator. Every time I get out of the shower, I hate looking in the mirror because that scar is just a reminder."

Ryan caressed her back gently. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I just feel like I have to." She sniffed. "And then Dex was killed. His family lives in Kansas City. We haven't spoken a word since his funeral. And when you belong to a family like mine, everybody's expecting you to make some heirs." Emmie just leaned on Ryan's strong shoulder. There were no more words. She closed her eyes and simply listened to his breathing and the rustling of his hand tenderly rubbing her back. That in itself was very comforting to her.

"You really had to fend for yourself" he finally said quietly. "Wish I knew what to tell you."

"It's okay. Seems like when something bad happens to you, everybody else is an expert." She now leaned her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist while he cradled her, like he used to. "Thanks for letting me talk to you, Ryan. Sweet Stuff. Maybe I just kept all that inside me for too long."

"Emmie, you're not damaged." With one hand he reached down and laced his fingers between hers, caressing her belly. She let him. "You're beautiful."

With her free hand she reached up and touched the scar above his eye with her thumb. He closed his eye and let her. Ryan was sensitive about his eye, but Emmie could touch it. "And every inch of you is handsome" she said.

He smiled now. "How would you know? You've never seen every inch of me."

She laughed through her tears. "I have a great imagination."

Ryan felt the weight of the world fall off his shoulders. He kissed her hair and simply held her, caressing her back. He'd been missing this. More waves of tears came over Emmie as he swayed her. "You gonna be all right by yourself? I can stay in your guest room" he finally said.

"You don't mind? I just have to go make up the bed in there."

"Besides, I was sort of hoping you could give me a ride to work in the morning."

"Sure. Do you want some dinner? Not sure what I'm gonna feed you."

Ryan headed for her front door now. "Hey, I'll be right back, okay? And I'll make up the guest bed. I want you to rest."

"Where are you going?"

"I was, uh, gonna go speak to your dad." He paused. "An uncle of mine gave me some old stocks and stuff, and I was gonna ask your dad's advice on how to invest them."

"He'd be flattered. Want me to go with you?"

"Nah. Just gonna be some guy talk. Then I'll see about some dinner." He kissed her sweaty forehead.

Stryker came sniffing curiously at his feet. Much as Ryan hated cat fur, he scooped up the silver tabby and placed him gently on her lap. Emmie held Stryker now and looked at him hopefully.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"My cousin's wedding is this weekend. You know you're still welcome to fly up with us. My family really loves you."

He smiled. "I'd love to, but I sort of have a commitment for this weekend."

She nodded understandingly. "Okay. If you have a commitment, then you keep it."

"You lie down, okay?" He kissed her forehead as she closed her eyes and touched his hair again. The weight of the world had just fallen off both of them.

"Be right back. I love you, Emmie."

"I love you too, Sweet Stuff."


	27. The Sounds of Silence

**A/N: Sorry this post took so long. Working toward a much-needed career change. Lots of reading, studying and prepping. I had no idea designing a web page could be so complicated. I have a newfound respect for those of you who do this for a living.  
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****Contains spoilers for Darkroom (S5)****

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><p><strong>Chapter 27—Sounds of Silence<strong>

A row of news trucks was parked outside the small blue house, satellite feeds up like a gray forest. Everyone could feel the tension rise with the heat as a sea of cameras, microphones, and chattering reporters stood just inches from the yellow crime scene tape, ready to pounce on anyone who looked like they might know something. After what had happened the day before, the officers stood watch, making sure the media and the curious stayed on their side of the yellow tape.

"_More and more details are coming out about Chip Melton, the infamous Miami Cyberkiller. In fact, police have now discovered that Nicole Olson and Reagan Carlson were kept in an underground dungeon that seemed to be constructed just for this purpose…"_

"_Police are discussing very little about the underground bunker in which Nicole Olson and Reagan Carlson were held prisoner…"_

"_The Miami Cyberkiller kept his victims in what can only be described as a 'house of horrors' much like Silence of the Lambs…"_

"_As this nail-biting story unfolds, we're learning more and more about the nightmare that the victims of the Miami Cyberkiller put his victims through…."_

"_Sources now say that the two girls were allegedly kidnapped, raped, and then locked in an underground bunker where they were found starving….It's not clear at this moment whether Mr. Melton was going to leave them there to die or whether he would find more victims."_

The concrete room was a mere fifty feet from the herd of news trucks and chattering media, but it might as well have been halfway around the world. In here there were no sounds except Horatio's and Calleigh shuffling their legs as they sat down.

Three feet high and six feet wide. The entrance itself could only be crawled through. The ceiling was three feet high from the floor. There was no light except their flashlights. In the dampness it smelled like sad, desperate humans cramped together. Two sets of musty sheets and pillows lay on either side of the floor. A flashlight lay in the corner, presumably dead. Several water bottles and granola wrappers littered the floor. Discarded. Just like the victims.

"Just when you think you'd seen it all" Calleigh said quietly. Couldn't stand up. Almost no light." She sampled the air. "Musty in here."

Horatio had seen just about everything as a police officer. He'd read about girls being locked in these types of places. But deep down, no police officer ever wanted to admit it could happen in their city.

Calleigh's flashlight fell on a bucket in the corner. "And I guess that was the bathroom." She kept her sleeved arm over her nose as she snapped pictures with one hand. "It's a wonder those two are even sane, let alone alive."

With his gloved hand, Horatio closed the door slightly. He just stared for a moment. "Calleigh, it was just Nicole and Reagan who were locked in here. Correct?"

She looked up at him from her camera. "Far as I know. Why?"

He shined the light slowly over the entrance. "Take a look at this."

His flashlight followed the scratches on the door down the wall. "Blood."

Horatio nodded. "With claw marks on the door."

With her tweezers, Calleigh bent down and picked up a small brown object. Horatio looked on with her.

"A fingernail. Pink nail polish on one side and blood on the other."

"Both girls had red marks and scratches on their hands like they were trying to get out, but neither was missing a fingernail."

"They kept somebody else in here."

"This is going to DNA" Calleigh said as she dropped the fingernail into a small bag and sealed it.

* * *

><p>With her gloved hands, Natalia flipped through the photos. It reminded her too much of that incident with her sister. Teenage girls, every one of them. All races. All of them beautiful. Some of them wore clothes and some of them didn't. Some of them seemed glad to pose for the camera. Others had that all-too-familiar fear and sadness in their eyes. And somehow Chip Melton kept them as some kind of sick trophies.<p>

Horatio stood behind her in the small living room as he opened his cell phone. He didn't have to say a word. This little house seemed to have deep, dark secrets in every corner.

"Horatio, I'd ask how long. How long will this keep happening? But we both know the answer to that."

"Yes we do, Miss Boa Vista. And that's how long we'll keep bringing them to justice."

* * *

><p>Horatio opened his cell phone and hit the speed dial. "Alexx? Horatio. Do we still have Liesel Matthews?"<p>

"No, Horatio. I released the body to the family on Friday. Why?"

"Did you happen to notice anything about her fingernails?"

"Give me just one second." The M.E. stood at her laptop and clicked through her autopsy findings. "No, her nails had only the dirt in them. Wait!" She clicked through pictures again. "Horatio, we did have another body brought in. Name was Patricia Haines. Hunters found her in the same field as Liesel Matthews, way off near the clearing, probably where nobody looked. Lot of decomp. I'd say she'd been out there a good ten days when they brought her in." Alexx clicked through the pages again and glanced at the photo at what was left of the girl's discolored hand. "The middle fingernail from her right finger had been torn out, but first it had been pushed deep into the cuticle and then pulled upward, like she'd been doing some serious digging. The nails she did have were all jagged and broken, and the breaks were fresh."

"Fingernail color, Alexx?"

"Pink."

Horatio nodded. "Just like the sample we sent to DNA. Anything else?"

"There were black metallic paint flecks under her other fingernails. I knew it had to have been a metal door or wall of some kind, but nobody was able to match it to anything. That poor girl went down fighting."

"I believe she did."

"Horatio, he kept other girls in there, didn't he?"

"He collected them, Alexx. And we're going to find out who." With a determination he left.

* * *

><p>Delko stepped into the DNA lab. It looked more like a makeshift laundromat than a lab. Blankets, pillowcases, and clothes hung on lightboards along the wall. "Got your text, Valera. What's going on?"<p>

Maxine Valera tipped her head up from the spectrometer screen. "Looks like that bunker was the primary crime scene for just about everything. And I mean everything."

"Yeah?"

She walked up to the dirty, musty sheets that had once laid on the cement floor. She pointed to the middle area. "Biologicals. No seminal fluid, but vaginal fluid that matches Liesel Matthews's DNA. Also Reagan and Nicole."

Delko tightened his lips. "They're just kids."

"I know." She simply walked over to the next lightboard. Emmie's blue short-sleeved blouse and slacks were pinned up like a department store display. "I swabbed Emmie's clothes from yesterday. The guy did a good job of vacuuming out his trunk but not good enough." She made a semicircular motion with a pointer. "Emmie was lying on her stomach when Ryan found her. Right in here. Right where I marked off the front of her blouse? Epithelials from all three vics." She turned to him. "But there's more."

"What else?"

She flipped through some printed pages on the table. "Remember the traces of linear ABS and hypoallergens I found in Nicole Olson's backpack and clothes? It's the exact same as what I found in the clothes Nicole and Reagan were wearing when they were in the bunker. These were the underwear they were wearing in the bunker."

"So somebody has a serious allergy."

"There are plenty of hypoallergenic detergents on the market, but an exact mixture is just like a fingerprint." She walked to the table and handed Delko a printout. "Oh, and there's this."

Delko furrowed his eyebrows. "Difluorethane?"

"Emmie and Tyler use a lot of it. Keyboard cleaner. But Emmie didn't clean any keyboards before she went to the field yesterday, so this was definitely a transfer."

"So we just found our match—"

"Now we just have to find our user. Somebody with severe skin allergies who cleans computers."

"And not Chip Melton."

* * *

><p>Tyler didn't want to admit it, but it was tough to have both his supervisors watch his every move. He fumbled his way through cyberforensics as he scanned Chip Melton's computer.<p>

"Keep going, Tyler" Emmie said as she stood back. "You're doing fine."

"You understand why we had to pull you off the case, Emmie?" Horatio said.

"Something about getting kidnapped, pistol-whipped and thrown into a trunk, Sir?"

He ignored her sarcasm, knowing it wasn't directed at him but at the situation in general. "How's your face?"

With a gentle hand she touched her tender, swollen cheek. "Nothing broken, but I think I'll be eating more soft foods for a few days."

"Tyler, there has to be something in there that would lead us to Craig Kleinfelder."

The younger computer tech shook his head. "Nothing."

"And he didn't show up at the university or at his condo. So right now Mr. Kleinfelder's a person of interest, and we have no way of finding him."

As she continued to nurse her swollen face, Emmie's mind wandered back to the computer classes.

"I think I know somebody who does."


	28. Bait

**Chapter 28—Bait**

"Huh?"

Horatio sat in the girl's living room and looked at her sympathetically. "Saphira, I need you to go into your bedroom, log onto your computer, and tell Keith you want to meet."

Paul and Molly Constantine sat on the sofa opposite from them. It was hard for anyone to miss their fear.

Her father bolted up from the couch. "Saphira, what's going on? What did you get yourself into?"

The lieutenant put his hand up. "Mr. Constantine, I promise you. The Miami-Dade PD will be with your daughter at every step. We believe the man who calls himself Keith is actually the Miami Cyberkiller, and he's been trying to lure her."

"Wait a minute. That's impossible" he protested. "I heard it on the news. They killed him in a shootout a couple of days ago. It can't be—"

"They caught his accomplice" he said forcefully. "The real Miami Cyberkiller is still out there, and right now he's in the wind. Saphira is the only contact he has in the Miami area that we know of. She's the only one who could draw him out of the shadows. Mr. and Mrs. Constantine, this man's a brutal killer. And right now your daughter's all that stands between him and any more victims."

Molly put a hand over her mouth and looked at Paul. "Oh my God. I don't know…. Paul?"

Horatio looked at her now. "Mrs. Constantine, if we don't find him, Saphira could also be in danger. Maybe not now, but later on. This man knows she's out there, and we think he might try to cover his tracks. This man is desperate and will do whatever it takes. If your daughter can find out where he is, we can find him, and put him away for life."

Both parents dipped their heads. Horatio waited hopefully. Patiently.

Her father nodded. "Okay. But you promise."

"She will be protected at all times. Now Saphira, I need you to go to your computer and contact him. Agree to meet with him wherever he wants. Whatever you say to him, do not let him know about us. Can you do this?"

She nodded and immediately headed for her bedroom. Horatio followed her and watched over her shoulder. Her hands sweated as she clicked on the chat icon.

U THERE KEITH? ITS SAPHIRA

Silence.

HI KEITH. U THERE?

HI SAPH. WRU?

IM ALONE IN MY BEDROOM. U STILL WANNA MEET?

PARENTS?

ON VACATION. WONT B BACK TILL NX WK.

CAN U GET 2 THE SAWGRASS MOTEL? IM IN RM 124.

1 HR?

ILL BE W8ING. OUR LITTLE SECRET.

The girl stayed fixed on the screen. "How's Rae doing?"

"She's at home resting."

"So you think the same guy is trying to come after me?"

"I do. And Saphira?"

"Yes?"

"When this is over, I want you to talk to Reagan. Right now she needs all the friends she can get. Will you do that for me?"

She nodded sadly. "I miss her."

"I know she misses you too."

* * *

><p>Craig Kleinfelder sat on the edge of the rumpled bed and took a swig from the half-full bottle of Southern Comfort. A shot of courage. He wore only his jeans now. He had cut his hair short and shaved his goatee off so as not to be recognized.<p>

He felt strangely jittery. Normally it was a high for him to pin a girl down and rip her clothes little by little, the more to humiliate her before he got to the prize. She would be here any minute, he thought. She would be it. Just do her, shut her up for good, and get out of Miami somehow, he thought.

He jerked his head up when he heard a soft knock at the door.

"Who is it?" he asked, trying to hide the tremble in his voice.

"Is this Keith?"

His breathing quickened as he crept toward the door and peeked through the hole. Saphira was outside, all right. With sweaty fingers he fumbled with the locks and the door chain.

No sooner had he opened the door than it exploded open with a storm of police, guns trained on him, nearly knocking him backward.

"Miami-Dade Police! Get down on the ground right now! Put your hands in the air!"

Reflexively he dropped to his knees and held his hands out, his sense of reality gone. One officer wasted no time in snapping cuffs on him behind his back and yanking him to his feet.

Horatio came in, his 9 millimeter in front of his face. "Craig Kleinfelder, you're under arrest. Three counts of kidnapping and rape, one count of murder!" he said in a not-to-be-argued-with tone. "Get him out of here!"

The redheaded lieutenant breathed hard to dispel the adrenaline and looked around him as the crowd of officers hauled away the IT professor. He then stepped outside where Calleigh stood beside the fearful girl.

"You all right, Saphira?" he asked gently.

Reality had set in for the brown-haired teen. She had heard him say "kidnapping", "rape", and "murder". She held her hands up to her mouth in horror as the man she shared secrets with was taken away in handcuffs and shoved into a waiting patrol car.

"It's okay. You're safe. He's never gonna hurt you or anyone else ever again. Now go with these officers. They'll take you home."

She put her head down for a moment her hair covering her face. Horatio watched her.

"Saphira?"

"Is it okay if I stay here with you?"

He nodded. "I'll be talking to these officers, but you're welcome to wait in my car."

Calleigh now holstered her 9 millimeter and carried her processing kit into the room. "Saphira, we'll be in there if you need us."

Delko stepped in the doorway. "Hey. Did I miss anything?"

"You're right on time. We've been a little shorthanded with Wolfe on desk duty."

Calleigh had been snapping pictures, what she saw on the other side of the bed made her stop. "Check it out, Eric."

On the floor between the bed and the wall lay an open box of condoms, and some cord rope.

"Only one of them was gonna leave this room alive."

Delko tightened his lips at the thought. "Yeah, and it wasn't gonna be Saphira." He stooped down and, with his gloved hand, picked up the bunch of yellow rope. "I'm gonna have Valera process this. Just in case there's some more DNA on it."

Horatio stepped in and observed, hands on hips. "Spoke with the front desk. Mr. Kleinfelder registered under the name Keith Woodward. Requested everything hypoallergenic. Getting a copy of the front desk surveillance now."

With a gloved hand, Delko picked up the blue tee shirt that lay on the dresser. "I'll get this to the lab too. If it's the same as all the other hypoallergenic stuff, we got an airtight case."

* * *

><p>The sun was setting now. Horatio walked past the swarm of police cars and news trucks. Saphira sat with the Hummer door open, watching him. For some reason she just couldn't take her eyes off him. Sympathetically he kneeled down to her, like he did for so many other young victims.<p>

"How are you feeling?"

With fearful eyes, she just watched. "Better, I guess."

"We couldn't have done it without you. You helped us save lives today. You're a hero."

She looked down. "I don't feel like one."

"Real heroes never do."

She watched the open hotel room as Calleigh and Delko walked out with evidence bags.

"What would have happened to me?"

Horatio just looked down now. It wouldn't have been a wise thing for him to tell her. He looked up at her softly again.

"You did the right thing by not getting involved with him. You ready to go home now?"

She nodded. "Thanks."


	29. Ryan's Commitment

**A/N: I would again like to thank ajay1960, lilgenious, mummacass, Lady Buster, and anyone else I might have missed. Thank you all for your reviews.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 29—Ryan's Commitment<strong>

The Waldorf Astoria's grand ballroom was huge and impressive, surrounded on all sides with several floors of balconies and huge chandeliers. The main floor was noisy with band music, china and glasses clinking, laughing, socializing and politicking, full of a Who's Who of New York Society. Cousin Gwen looked beautiful as ever in her gown, while the younger bridesmaids giggled and posed for other pictures with their friends.

After months of fittings, rehearsals, and sacrificed weekends, her work here was finally done. With a deep sigh of relief, Emmie peeled off her gloves, slipped off those painful red shoes and leaned her head back. She had taken all the family pictures, done all the obligatory dances, and had plenty of buffet food. Now she sat alone at a table in the corner, yearning only for some solitude and maybe a nap. She had closed her eyes and relaxed for several minutes when she was aware of a rustling sound and a presence.

"Emmie?"

A smiling but very tired Gwen stood next to her in that magnificent gown. Reflexively Emmie jerked up. "Hey Gwen. So how are you feeling?"

The stunning bride collapsed into another chair, her skirt rustling around her. She glanced behind her to make sure no more photographers were stalking her. "Can I sit here and hide out with you for a while?"

The older cousin smiled understandably. "Don't see why not."

Gwen rested her made-up face on her fists. "I'm starving. Was it like this at your wedding?"

"Nope. We got married at a courthouse in Kansas City."

"Got any plans for this evening?"

Emmie shrugged. "Head back to the room, pack for the trip home, maybe take a hot bath. You're not the only one who had a busy week."

"How's your face?"

She touched her tender cheek gently with her fingers. Her bruise had faded, covered by the opaque makeup. "Better. Ticked me off when that makeup chick asked me if my boyfriend did that."

The young bride rolled her eyes and smiled. "Just wanted to tell you to stick around. Dad says there's one more surprise for the wedding party."

Emmie sniffed. "Typical. Your dad's always full of surprises. But I'm not putting these damned shoes back on."

The young bride put a hand on her forearm. "Thanks for being a bridesmaid."

"Thank you for feeding me. Don't think I'm gonna need dinner tonight."

As the band cleared the black and white marbled stage, Uncle Edwin authoritatively stepped in front of the crowd. He pulled the mike out of the stand and scanned the crowd of tuxes and gowns before he spoke with that booming voice of his.

Gwen tipped her head up. "Showtime again!" With that she hurried up to the stage, her white gown trailing around her.

"Okay everybody. Hope you got enough to eat. Now can I have all the ladies' attention please. Gwen, could you come up here?"

The tired but smiling bride stepped up and faced her father expectantly.

Uncle Edwin faced the crowd again. "Well, this morning my beautiful daughter got married. Now she gets to determine which one of you lovely ladies will be married next. The tradition is that the single lady who catches the bride's bouquet will be the next to be married. So can I have all the single ladies up here?" He motioned with his arm. "Come on, don't be shy. All ages. All of you single ladies, come on up to the stage. Gwen and I have a feeling one of you ladies is gonna be married really soon."

Emmie shrugged with a smile as she tiredly followed the flowing gowns and party dresses. Two attendants brought out a step for Gwen. She now stood on the step, her back to the single ladies, watching her father's cues.

Uncle Edwin put one finger up with a tired smile. "Ready, Gwen? One, two, three, and throw that bouquet!"

Gwen immediately launched her red and white bouquet, which flew behind her in an arc and came sailing straight into Emmie's arms. With the obligatory smile she held it over her head amidst the applause. That was too easy, she thought. But at least now she could finally go back to the room and relax. Maybe call Ryan and let him know she loved him.

Just then Frank Stockburne walked up onto the stage and gestured toward himself with his hands. Uncle Edwin nodded with a smile and gave him the microphone.

"My turn to have your attention please?" he said. "I'm Frank Stockburne, Gwen's uncle, and I'd just like for everyone to humor me for a few minutes. And can I have my daughter Emmie come up here please? Emmie? Come on back. You're not done yet."

Emmie raised her eyebrows as she stepped back through the crowd toward her father, her scarlet skirt flowing behind her, hugging her new trophy. Two attendants were carrying a white chair onto the stage.

"Emmie, I'd like you to sit down" her father said into the microphone, motioning toward the white chair.

She glanced at the chair and then at her father again. "Dad, what's—"

Her father didn't answer as he disappeared into the watching crowd. Emmie shrugged as she looked at the crowd. In the silence she flounced her oversized skirt on either side of her so she could sit down gently, still clutching her prize. She tried not to squirm as all eyes and those glaring spotlights were on her.

Then her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened. That bouquet that she had been hugging now dropped to the floor.

"Ryan?"

Ryan walked through the crowd and came toward her. He wore his police dress uniform, looking as handsome as he did at the VIP Gala. Her father had fixed a microphone on his lapel. She looked up at him, eyes still wide, as he stood in front of her and took her hand.

"Emmie. The first time we went out on a date I slow danced with you and recited some poetry to you. I really wanted to do that again today, but the truth is I'm kind of nervous."

There was some chuckling in the background. Her eyes fixed on his as he pursed his lips and took a deep breath under those bright lights.

"So I'm just gonna keep it simple." Never letting go of her hand, Ryan slowly lowered himself onto his right knee. "Emmie Stockburne. Will you marry me?"

Ryan had barely finished speaking when she let herself fall forward to him, on her knees as well, hugging him and covering the left side of his face with kisses. He almost fell forward and struggled to maintain his balance. Neither one of them heard the choruses of "Aww's" and applause all around them.

"Is that a yes?" he asked into her ear over.

"Uh huh!"

"Need your other hand." He reached into his jacket pocket and produced the engagement ring that she recognized as having belonged to her grandmother. Her relatives now crowded closer and fawned as he carefully slid it onto her finger. Several photographers crept up and captured the moment from just feet away. She wiped her eyes and held him tightly again.

"Well, I guess that bouquet thing really works!" Frank Stockburne said into the mike. "Please join me in a toast to the new couple. Ryan Wolfe and Emmalyn Parr Stockburne!" Proudly he lifted a sparkling champagne glass while Ryan helped Emmie to her feet. "Congratulations, Ryan and Emmie!"

A sea of glasses were raised amid applause. Emmie wiped her eyes as Ryan held her hand.

Ryan could tell that she still hadn't gotten over the shock as he took her hand and led her down from the stage. "Surprised?"

She hugged and kissed him again. She had no words.

Ryan couldn't help but notice that she now limped slightly from being in those shoes all day. "What do you say? Wanna get out of here?"

She nodded with a confident smile. "Yeah. Where are you staying?"

He smiled proudly. "At the Michaelangelo. In a two-room suite, with you. They moved my stuff in while you ladies were getting ready."

Ryan held a firm hand over hers as he led her out of the reception hall, slowly but carefully. As the noise faded behind her, Emmie never felt prouder as she walked down that white hallway.

A line of limousines, Towncars and even some horse-drawn carriages lined the Manhattan street. Ryan saw that Emmie was looking at the white horse drawn carriages.

"What do you say? Go back to the room in style?"

"You can already read my mind."

The driver gingerly took her hand as she gathered her skirt and climbed in. Ryan sat beside her and held her hand. This time she leaned her head on his shoulder. All memories of Rick Stetler had completely disappeared.

The New York sunset and the relaxing ride no longer mattered to Emmie. She looked down at the silver ring that sparkled in the twilight and shook her head. This was all beautiful. "I still don't believe this" she said just before she kissed him again.

"Sounds like you folks had a good time at the wedding" the driver said from his seat.

"That's right, Sir" Ryan said proudly. "And we just got engaged about five minutes ago."

"Is that right? Well congratulations! How about one time around Central Park? My engagement present."

Emmie laughed. "I'd like that." Her voice sank to a whisper as she held Ryan's hand. "Anywhere with you."


	30. The Promise

**A/N: When I rewrote this whole story I thought it best to leave this chapter out. It may seem pointless, but it has a lot of things that will translate over into other stories. Again I'd like to thank all of you for your kind comments and reviews.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 30—The Promise<strong>

The sound of the high-pitched horn traveled over the water as the massive _Carnival Fascination_ glided silently past. There were no other sounds except the lapping surf and the breeze hissing through the sand and the palm trees.

It was Sunday evening, and the sun was setting over Miami. Ryan had brought Emmie to her favorite thinking spot at the small beach near the cruise ship ports. He had spread out her military blanket on the jetty rocks and leaned back against a post. Emmie sat between his knees and rested her head on his strong chest. As he wrapped his arms firmly around her ribcage, she smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the security she felt there. The evening breeze blew through her chestnut hair, tickling his nose.

"So you never did tell me how you snuck up to New York" she said, finally tilting her head up at him.

"Didn't your folks tell you? While you rode up on the jet with your family, I took a commercial flight. Your dad bought me a first-class ticket and made all the arrangements. Surprised?"

She looked back at the gray surf and sighed blissfully. "It still doesn't seem real. So tell me. Was this the 'investment' you wanted to speak about my dad about the other night?"

He smiled down at her and shrugged. "Well, it is an investment. I'm investing the rest of my life in you, right? So, your folks set everything up. They even had your grandmother's engagement ring resized. I think you'll give me a good return on my investment."

She smiled. "Which would be…?"

He stroked her hair. "Having you next to me for the rest of my life."

Emmie held out her hand and admired the sparkling antique ring. "I can't wait to see everybody's reactions tomorrow. I'm not gonna say a word. I'm just gonna wear it and see whether anybody notices."

Ryan sighed and held a hand over his face. "Tomorrow."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just that Stetler should have his findings after that little incident last week."

"You think everything's gonna be all right?"

"Yeah. I mean, Tripp and I followed procedure. Just that I'm getting a little sick of The Rubber Gun Squad. Tripp's gonna lose it if he has to spend one more day behind a desk."

"Sergeant Stetler's not leaning on you because of me, is he?"

"No. This investigation is standard procedure." He rubbed her upper arms. "Stop worrying, Emmie."

Emmie could sense that Ryan didn't feel quite right about something now. She looked up at him again. "Something bothering you?"

"It really doesn't matter now."

"No, tell me."

He closed his eyes. "Well…. To see Stetler walking you to your car that night….."

Emmie looked out at the surf. It caused a chill in her. "I'm sorry, Ryan."

"Hey, it's okay. Like you said, it's all behind us, right? Now only I can walk you to your car."

She smiled playfully. "Well, maybe Horatio if you're working late." Emmie picked up his strong arms and wrapped them around her shoulders. "Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"You fought for me. You saved my life last year. And you wouldn't let Rick Stetler scare you away. You stood by me. You were there for me the whole time."

"Well, maybe not the whole time."

She turned to face him. "Ryan? Please. That's all over and done with. And if he ever becomes a problem for us again, I'll leave."

"What do you mean you'll leave?"

"I'll look for another job. Things are gonna be different when we're married. It's all about you and me now."

He now smiled down at her. "You won't have to work anymore once we get the money."

"Yes I do. When my dad and John told me about the honorarium, you should've seen the looks on their faces when I said I wasn't quitting my job. That was the same day I got hit in the face."

Ryan stroked her hair again. "Yeah, your family's lawyer gave me the prenup contract up in New York."

"And?"

"I signed it. It said the longer I stay married to you, the more I walk away with if I decide to leave you for another CSI. **OW!**" Ryan nearly jumped up as she dug her nails under his kneecap. "I was kidding, Emmie! God!" He reached over and rubbed his knee. "Dammit! That's gonna leave a mark!"

She turned and kneeled in front of him, looking into his eyes. "But you won't, though."

"You know you just assaulted a police officer, right?" he said with a grin.

She smiled back at him slyly, inches from his face. "Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?"

"This." He took her face into his hands, kissing her again and again, more deeply each time. Emmie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and savored him, listening to his breathing, and pulled herself closer to him. Ryan suddenly pried himself loose.

"Nah, we better stop it. That does things to me." He caught his breath and glanced down at himself. "Down, Boy."

Emmie giggled and leaned her head confidently on his strong chest again. "Definitely making your heart go pitter-patter" she said playfully.

"Not just my heart." Ryan then leaned back and closed his eyes. "And then maybe I can get that surgery for my eye. Don't want to, though."

Emmie stayed on her knees in front of him and gently kissed the scar above his eye where the nail had struck him. He smiled.

"What was that for?"

"My promise to you. Every morning when we wake up, I'll kiss your eye. Obviously I can't do that at work. It'll have to wait until we're married."

"That's not gonna do anything for my eye."

She leaned on his knees, still facing him. "How do you know that?"

"Keratitis? Don't think it's gonna help much."

"You're telling me it won't at least make you feel better? My job as your wife will be to make you feel better, right?"

He smiled. "Well, yeah."

She leaned forward and kissed his eye again. He smiled again. "And here's one for tomorrow" she said, kissing his eye a third time. Before she could back away he held her close to him.

"I love you, Emmie."

"I love you too, Sweet Stuff."

Ryan kept his arms wrapped around her as the daylight faded. "You never did tell me what you want for a wedding present. But really, what could I give you?"

Emmie motioned toward the cruise ship that had now shrunk in the distance. "I'd really love to go on one of those."

"The cruise ship?"

She nodded. "I've always dreamed of it."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't know. Not sure I can stay on one of those things for a whole week. What if there's Norovirus? What if there's a storm?"

"Take some Dramamine or something."

Ryan could feel his OCD tendencies kicking in. "I don't know."

"Ryan, that's okay. As long as I get to do it with you, that's all that matters." Emmie now started to close her eyes and dip her head as she held his knee. He fondled her hair again.

"I think somebody's tired. Should you be heading back?"

Emmie stood up and stretched. "Yeah, guess I'd better get ready for tomorrow." She smiled at her ring again. "I still can't wait to see what everybody's gonna say."

"You gonna show everybody all those bridal magazines you bought at the airport?"

"Of course. I think we earned it. And you know what? I'm proud as hell that you're my fiancé."

Ryan carried the sandy blanket under his arm as he walked Emmie to her Blazer and opened the door. "I'll see you in the morning, Emmie. Night."

She held onto him more tightly as she kissed him. "Night, Sweet Stuff. Dream about me."

He smiled. "Better not. It'd be messy. I love you, Emmie."

Playfully she slapped his arm. "I love you too."


	31. Silent No More

**Chapter 31—Silent No More**

As she stepped in, Calleigh noticed that the computer lab was silent for a Monday morning. Tyler had stepped out for something, while Emmie was focused on the main monitor. "Hey."

"Hey." Emmie never took her eyes off the monitor, but she was smiling.

"Well, you look awful happy for a Monday morning. What'd you do over the weekend?"

"Oh, not much. Had fun at my cousin's wedding. Got some rest."

"Good. Something tells me you're gonna need it this week." She handed Emmie several folders. "Did some test fires, and I need them scanned into IBIS."

Emmie reached up and took the folders with her left hand. "I'll take care of them."

A smile crossed Calleigh's face when she saw the sparkle of Emmie's ring. She inched closer to the computer tech. "Is that what I think it is?"

Emmie now leaned her face on her hand coyly. "I don't know. What do you think it is?"

"You and Ryan?"

She nodded proudly. "Over the weekend. At my cousin's reception."

"I think you two are a beautiful couple. Congratulations!"

She looked down and blushed a little. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>Craig Kleinfelder's double life had completely collapsed on itself. Instead of those casual denim shirts, he now wore an orange prison jumpsuit. His eyes were bloodshot from having had so little sleep. He now just looked down at the table and furiously scratched his forearms, making his skin bleed.<p>

As Horatio walked into the room and slapped the folder onto the table, he gave the IT professor a piercing stare. Slowly Craig's tired brown eyes met his. The fresh bruise under his tired, bloodshot eyes was hard to miss. "Go ahead. Say it. I'm sick in the head" he muttered.

"Looks like you found out what they do to pedophiles on the inside, Mr. Kleinfelder" he nearly growled, letting him know that if he was looking for sympathy, he wouldn't find it here. Instead Horatio opened the case file and slid several photographs toward him. Craig Kleinfelder glanced down at the pictures of Reagan Carlson and Nicole Olson.

"The hell's that?"

"Some evidence we recovered that you and Chip Melton had stashed away. There were more, and you can be sure we'll find out who they are. The manufacturing and distribution of child pornography alone will get you ten to twenty, if you live that long on the inside. We also recovered your DNA from Chip Melton's car to prove that you raped Liesel Matthews. And we haven't even discussed Liesel's murder yet."

He sat up with a start. "Hey, hey, I didn't do anything to her in that—" He sat back and swallowed.

Horatio cocked his head. "So you admit that you used Chip Melton's car and his computer to stash evidence and commit a felony."

He said nothing.

"You don't need to say a word, Mr. Kleinfelder. The evidence is gonna talk loud and clear. We also recovered your emails and the bank records of Pettigrew Engineering. Looks like they were doing some under-the-table work for you when they built that bunker. If you had applied for that building permit, you might not have brought so much attention to yourself."

The man grimaced as he reached under the sleeves of his orange jumpsuit and clawed at his shoulder.

Horatio slid another piece of paper to him. "And the hypoallergenic detergent you used? Exact match to Nicole Olson's backpack and the clothes that we found Reagan and Nicole wearing. It's as good as a fingerprint to prove that you washed Nicole's backpack and clothes in the college dorm to try to get rid of any evidence. In doing that, you created even more."

The man looked out the window now. Horatio knew that kind of distance in someone's eyes.

"I get the feeling you want to say something, Mr. Kleinfelder."

"When you were in school, did you ever ask a girl out, only to be told to get lost?" He smirked now. "All those cute little _snobby_ girls. They think they can control us." He leaned forward and clenched his fist. "They're little teases the way they dress like skanks! They bend over in those little skirts, and then they tell me to get lost, like they control me! For years I saw it every day! They're out there on the internet sexting us, teasing us again. Telling us things! They think it's so funny! Doesn't that ever bug you?"

Horatio leveled his eyes at him. "We're not boys; we're men, Mr. Kleinfelder. We're supposed to be the responsible ones!"

He breathed deeply. "I've always had this damned skin allergy. Couldn't stop the itching. Got rashes. Little bitches always used to make fun of me. I finally decided I had enough. They need to learn they couldn't get away with it."

"Is that why you murdered Liesel Matthews?"

"Hey, Heidi was still alive when she ran out!"

"Her name was Liesel Matthews!" Horatio snarled.

Craig Kleinfelder shrank back. "She kicked me in the stomach. Yeah, okay, I had her by the neck, but she got away from me! I don't know how she died!"

Without another word, Horatio slid another photo in front of him. "Her trachea was crushed. You may not have killed her directly, but your actions caused her to die. Liesel is dead. Chip Melton is dead. I almost lost my senior computer tech, all because of your control issues."

"I helped Chip" he insisted. "His stocks and his property went belly up in the Dot Com Bust, so I bought him out. Because of me he had a job and a place to live. He wanted to build that bunker. He was this big apocalyptic nut. Wanted to make fertilizer for something. Hell, I don't know. Could've asked him. He could've wanted to make bombs for all I know. Wanted to store stuff in that bunker. I told him to let me borrow the place. You could hide things in there for months at a time and nobody would know. You know how damned expensive it is to build an underground bunker here in Florida?" He leaned forward at Horatio now, his eyes blazing. "You know, you ask me if I'm sorry for what I did. Hell no I'm not! It felt pretty good to have them locked away so I could do whatever I want. Take control of them for a change."

The Lieutenant had heard enough. "Mr. Kleinfelder, you're gonna learn more about control than you ever wanted to know. Take him!"

With a quiet anger Horatio reassembled the file while an officer snapped cuffs on the man.

* * *

><p>Ryan took a deep breath as he stood at the doorway of the interrogation room. Rick Stetler glanced down dispassionately at his paperwork, only glancing at Ryan momentarily.<p>

"Have a seat, Wolfe. Close the door behind you."

Ryan didn't take his eyes off the IAB agent as he sat opposite from him.

In any investigation Rick learned to just read off his findings, deliver the verdict, and retreat back into his paperwork. Today he was tired from the pressure and the publicity surrounding this case. Still, something in him wanted to make Ryan Wolfe sweat a little. After all, he was the only thing that might possibly stand between him and another chance with Emmie. Time to get this over with, he thought, as he sighed and held his pen. He would try to talk with Emmie after all this was over.

"I've finished my investigation into the Chip Melton shooting last week. Spoke with the responding officers and reviewed the suspect's autopsy report." He flipped through more pages and glanced down. "It was determined that the suspect committed suicide by cop when he pointed his weapon at police officers. You had no choice but to respond by firing back." He sighed as he shuffled papers. "Autopsy report showed the suspect took two fatal rounds in his chest. Ballistics matched the two rounds to Tripp's and your weapons. Witnesses say that when the suspect ceased to be a threat to you or to Emmie Stockburne you stopped firing, as is procedure. I'm taking into account that this was a hostage situation in which Chip Melton held a weapon to the vehicle's gas tank, with Emmie Stockburne in the trunk. Obviously you and Detective Tripp had an obligation to keep Emmie Stockburne safe. So it's been determined that you and Detective Tripp followed procedure and acted in a way that was required to save the life of a hostage. I'm informing you that this incident won't be on your service record." He reached down and picked up Ryan's firearm, in its holster, and slid it across the table toward him. "You're restored to regular duty effective immediately."

With an inaudible sigh of relief, Ryan picked up his nine millimeter and fastened it to his belt. He then looked straight at Rick.

"You got something you want to tell me, Wolfe?" Rick asked dispassionately.

Ryan paused for a moment. "Yes I do. Since you mention Emmie Stockburne, I thought I'd let you know. You won't have to buy her flowers anymore."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows and held his hands out. "You're telling me this because?"

He smiled confidently. "She's engaged. To me." He didn't wait for Rick's response as he turned and left.

* * *

><p>The deflated IAB agent knew Emmie was on her lunch hour and would be in the break room. As he carried the investigation files back toward his office, he couldn't help it. He walked discreetly past the door. Something in him just had to see whether it was true.<p>

Emmie was glowing and holding out her left hand, showing that silver engagement ring. The younger lab techs were like high school girls, giggling and fawning over the sparkling diamond. Emmie had a bridal magazine opened in front of her.

"I swear, I never saw it coming. My dad had me sit up on the stage in front of everybody, and Ryan just came out…."

"Awwwww! How sweet!"

"So did you pick out your colors yet?"

"Not yet. For my bouquet, what do you think about orchids?"

"Orchids? Oooh. Sexy!"

"Well, it _is_ Ryan."

"I kind of like this style here. So what do you think? A train?"

"Aww, that's beautiful! Come on, Emmie! When's the big day?"

Rick took a deep breath and kept walking toward the elevator. He couldn't bear to hear any more.


	32. The Two Shall Stand as One

**A/N: This isn't the end, folks. One chapter to go. This was from my own wedding, as much as I could remember of it 25 years ago. **

**The song for this chapter is "The Wedding Song" by Noel Paul Stookey.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 32—The Two Shall Stand As One<strong>

Alexx's hair was decorated in a careful bun adorned with baby's breath. The skirt of her burgundy Maid of Honor gown rustled as she sat down next to Emmie. For just a moment the two of them relished the silence. Both knew the time was getting close.

"Sweetie, that dress makes you look like royalty! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Ryan is gonna have a hard time keeping his hands off you until tonight."

Emmie smiled and blushed as she glanced down at her white sateen gown. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Alexx."

For a moment the mother became a little girl. She leaned in. "Tell me."

"Ryan and I are gonna have a true wedding night. I made him wait."

"Really? Well I'm proud of you! Make him respect you."

"He does." Emmie now stood up and gently hugged her. "Oh God, Alexx. Thanks for being there for me. We trusted you and Horatio through this whole thing" she said into Alexx's shoulder.

Alexx hugged Emmie and rubbed the satin back of her gown. She felt a tear on her shoulder and reached for a Kleenex. "Oh, it was my pleasure." She gently dabbed Emmie's eye in a motherly fasion. "Now don't cry or you're gonna ruin that makeup that took an hour to put on you."

There was a gentle knock on the door.

"Come on in" Alexx called.

Frank Stockburne poked his head in. "Just about ready, Sweetheart. Dr. Woods." He tried to close the door, but he just couldn't stop gazing at his little girl.

Emmie smiled at him knowingly. "Thanks, Dad. We'll be right there."

Alexx stepped over to the white table and reached for Emmie's veil and bouquet. "We better finish putting you together, Miss Blushing Bride." She carefully draped the sateen veil over Emmie's made-up face and gently patted the silver tiara into position. She then handed Emmie the bouquet of roses with trailing ribbons. "Well? Are you ready?"

"I've never been more ready for anything in my life."

* * *

><p>"The Wedding Song" wafted softly through the cruise ship's small white chapel. Everyone stood as Emmie followed Alexx, her head tipped down regally, her hand hooked under her father's black jacketed elbow. Everything she saw and heard through the veil seemed surreal to her. Uncle Edwin, Ryan, and Horatio watched her proudly from the brown, candle-lit altar that seemed to be so far off in the distance. Her satin gown rustled. She barely felt her father kiss her cheek as Ryan proudly stepped forward and took her arm, walking her the rest of the way.<p>

The Honorable Edwin Parr, a large, pale man with very little hair and a booming voice, stood at the altar in his judicial robes and opened his small black ceremonial book, now looking down proudly on Ryan and his niece as they stood before him. He had done hundreds of weddings, but this one was different. A hush fell over the white chapel as he glanced down at his book.

"Who gives this bride in marriage?"

"I do" Frank Stockburne said, smiling as he stood by his daughter's side.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of Almighty God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony. This sacred institution is recognized by all, honored by all. I'd like to read a passage from the book of Ecclesiastes. 'Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow; but woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up. Again, if two lie together, they are warm; but how can one be warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him. Ryan and Emmalyn, today you will pledge your lives, your hearts, and all that you own to stand together as one, for as long as you both shall live. This is a sacred commitment that should never be entered into lightly. Ryan, do you take Emmalyn to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do" Ryan said with a proud smile.

Uncle Edwin then looked at his niece. "Emmalyn, do you take Ryan to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Would you please join hands and pledge your vows to one another?"

Ryan firmly held Emmie's fingers and watched Uncle Edwin. He then grasped her fingers more confidently as he looked into her eyes.

"Emmie, from this day forward, I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife. I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you, with all of your faults and strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help, and will turn to you when I need help. I pledge to you all that I have, to love, honor and cherish you, forsaking all others, as long as we both shall live."

Emmie's voice cracked. She took a deep breath to dispel the nervousness and the tears.

"Ryan, I take you to be my lawfully wedded husband. I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you, with all of your faults and strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and strengths. From this day forward I honor you with my body and my heart. I pledge to you all that I have, to love you and no other, for as long as we shall live."

"The exchanging of wedding rings is a tradition that symbolizes the token of love. The ring in itself is round. Strong. Unending. Symbolic of the circle of love in marriage. Ryan, would you place the ring on Emmalyn's finger?"

Horatio discreetly handed Ryan the ring. He delicately took her hand and eased it over her engagement ring.

"Emmie, with this ring I thee wed. Please accept this as a token of my unending love" Ryan said very quietly, his voice trembling.

"Emmalyn, you may place the ring on Ryan's finger." Alexx held her bouquet of red and pink roses, exchanging it for Ryan's ring, which Emmie then eased onto his finger.

She looked into his eyes. "Ryan, with this ring, I thee wed. Please accept this ring as a token of my unending love."

"Ryan and Emmalyn. Before Almighty God, and in the presence of your family and friends, you have exchanged your vows to love, honor and cherish one another in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live. Do you stand by these vows today and forever?"

Both Ryan and Emmie faced Uncle Edwin confidently. "We do."

"Then would you please join hands one final time?"

Emmie interlocked hands with her fiancé yet again. Judge Parr then removed the gold sash from his black robe and carefully wrapped it around their hands.

"Ryan and Emmalyn, I wrap my gold sash around your joined hands as a symbol that as you are bound together as one in the presence of Almighty God as well as before your family and friends. From this day forward you will stand as one." He then grinned. "One of you still has a chance to back out now if you want to. But I don't think that's gonna happen." He then looked to the attendees. "Aren't they a beautiful couple? These two share a love that we don't see every day." With his huge hands, Judge Parr then unwrapped the gold sash from their joined hands and draped it back over his robe. With a confident smile he then held one hand over their heads.

"Ryan and Emmalyn, by the power given to me by the United States Federal Government and further recognized by the State of Florida, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. Ryan, kiss your beautiful bride!"

"Gladly, Sir" Ryan said as he swept the soft veil back from her face. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around him first, joining him in their first kiss as husband and wife. Their families and co-workers stood up and applauded.

Ryan and Emmie then hugged one another for what seemed a long time before they faced Uncle Edwin again.

"Now turn and face you family and friends." Both of them turned and faced the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Ryan Wolfe."

* * *

><p>Ryan and Emmie had time to have photos taken and meet with everyone for cake and drinks at the lounge behind the chapel before the ship would sail for the Western Caribbean. Ryan was a little nervous about going on a cruise, but he knew this was what Emmie wanted, and he was willing to be on a cruise ship for an entire week if that was what it took to make her happy.<p>

Emmie hugged Alexx. "Alexx, thanks so much for being here for me."

Alexx touched her face. "My pleasure, Sweetie. Now that was a beautiful ceremony!"

Horatio simply gazed at her. "Mrs. Wolfe. I'll have to have to get used to that."

"Yes Sir. Well… Aw, I have to do it." She hugged her boss and gently kissed his cheek. "Thanks for everything you did" she whispered into his ear.

She reached forward and hugged Delko. "Hey Emmie. Go easy on him. I think he's still a virgin" he whispered with that boyish grin.

Emmie laughed nervously and slapped his shoulder. "Eric, you're terrible!"

"Hey Emmie! Are you gonna throw the boquet?" Natalia wanted to know.

She smiled down at the red and pink roses. "Single ladies? Are you ready?"

A group of ladies gathered. Without another word, Emmie turned and threw the boquet in an arc over her head. It landed neatly into Calleigh's arms. She held it triumphantly and smiled that smile at Eric. His jaw dropped.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please? Will all friends and guests of cruise ship passengers please prepare to exit the ship as soon as possible as we prepare to sail? Again, we must ask that all friends and guests of our cruise ship passengers please prepare to exit the ship as we prepare to sail. Thank you._"

Judge Parr carefully removed his black robes and draped them over his shoulder. Emmie hugged him while Ryan shook his hand. "You don't know how long I waited to do this" he said, smiling. "You two just look so beautiful."

Emmie smiled back at her uncle. "That's sort of why we asked you. Thanks, Uncle Bear."

He kissed her forehead and shook Ryan's hand again. "You two have a great vacation."

The chapel was now silent and empty except for the bride and groom. Ryan took her hand.

"Well, we did it."

Emmie let the tears stream down her face. "Yeah. We did it" she whispered and hugged him.

"Hey, come on." He gently took her hand. "They're getting ready to sail. I think we better get to our cabin."

She nodded with a smile. "Let's."


	33. Naked and Not Ashamed

**A/N: This is it, folks! This is the last chapter! Of all the Ryan/Emmie stories I've done, this is truly my favorite. Special thanks to mummacass, PrincessEsmeralda, ajay1960, Storyloverandteller101, and anyone I may have forgotten. I truly appreciate your kind words and reviews. **

**Even though I said I wouldn't, I have made the decision to repost Cold Rain next. It is the second of the series and comes after "More Than Just Words" and before "A Monster's Ball". I originally skipped over Cold Rain because I couldn't criticize Delko and Calleigh for being bombed, dumped into a canal, shot, smoke inhalation, etc when I'm doing the same thing to Miami characters as well as my OC. Again, thanks.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 33—Naked and Not Ashamed<strong>

Ryan stood back as he held the cabin door open for his wife. "Hey, I'm supposed to carry you in, right?"

She put up her hand. "Ryan, don't. I don't need you getting a hernia on our honeymoon."

As Ryan closed the door behind them, Emmie stopped and smiled in wonder as she admired the colorful two-room suite. She then looked at her new husband and down at her gown again. Her dream was unfolding right in front of her. Ryan noticed her watching him. "You okay, Mrs. Wolfe?" he asked teasingly.

She stepped forward and hugged him, kissing the side of his head. "Everything's wonderful, Sweet Stuff," she whispered, tightening her arms around him. "Just wonderful."

"Yeah. It sure is."

Emmie then stepped forward to the glass door of the cabin's balcony, looking out over the activity of Miami and closed her eyes, quietly taking it all in. Somehow Miami looked different from a cruise ship balcony.

"This is pretty nice" Ryan said as he scanned the suite and finally opened the closet doors. He then carefully removed his medal-encrusted jacket and bowtie, putting them carefully on a hanger. Emmie removed the veil and tiara, shaking out her chestnut hair and letting it flow freely as she sat down at the dining table.

The cabin steward had left their luggage by the bed and the wedding gifts and cards on the dining table. Emmie thumbed open cards and looked at decorated gift boxes.

Having unbuttoned the top of his white dress shirt, Ryan came up quietly behind his wife and gently eased the strap of her dress down to her bicep, exploring her bare shoulder with his mouth as he slipped his hands around her form-fitting bodice. Emmie closed her eyes and felt a stirring as she heard his breathing deepen. But then she held his wrists.

"They're gonna call the lifeboat drill any second now."

Ryan groaned in frustration as he put his cheek next to hers.

"You know we have to." She motioned toward the chair next to hers. "Come on. Let's look at the gift basket while we wait, okay?"

With a deep, frustrated sigh he sat down and watched as she slipped her thumb under an embossed envelope that read _Frank and Abbie Stockburne_. Emmie read the card and smiled, but then her smile disappeared. "Oh my God. Ryan?"

Ryan's eyes widened as he looked over her shoulder. "They didn't have to do that."

Her parents had given them a reloadable check card for two thousand dollars. The card said _A little something to spend on your honeymoon_.

Ryan picked it up. "This is going into the safe" he assured her.

"What's in that box from Eric?" Emmie wanted to know, pointing.

Ryan slipped the white box open and pulled out the contents. Two white plastic bottles fell out onto the varnished table. He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Delko gave me a box of Vitamin E and Vivarin. 'For the wedding night,' it says. And 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do.""

Emmie giggled. "Sounds like Eric."

The ship's PA system announced the lifeboat drill. Dutifully Ryan stood up and took the orange life vests out of the closet. "Here, I'll get you fixed up. You're gonna put that thing over your dress?"

"Yeah. I don't have time to change. Besides, I don't want to spoil the surprise" she said with a smile.

Ryan quickly fastened the straps on her orange vest before he put the other one over his white shirt. "Let's get this thing over with."

When the lifeboat drill finally ended, Ryan impatiently took his wife's hand and led her back through the long, narrow hallways and into their suite. With a tired sigh, Emmie slipped out of her white shoes and into the small bathroom.

"I'll be right there, Sweet Stuff. They're getting ready to sail. They're gonna have a big party topside, if you want to go" she said to the mirror while she removed her makeup with a wet washcloth. "Who knows? I'd sort of like to get a pina colada or something."

As she patted her face dry, Emmie became aware of the room darkening and the sound of drapes sliding. She stepped out just in time to see Ryan wearing only his boxers. She gave him that shy smile.

"You don't want to go topside for the sailoff, do you?"

Ryan had that special look as he walked over to her. "Nope. And I don't think you do either." His voice sank to a whisper. "Now let's try this again." Very slowly and softly he wrapped his arms around her bodice again and explored her cleavage with his tongue. She bit her lip and shivered with pleasure as he then let his hands wander over her bodice, his breathing deepening. "I waited for you" he whispered into her neck.

She could feel her desire for him rising as she slid her hands down his muscular back. "I waited for you, too."

"We're not waiting anymore. You've been driving me crazy with this all day long."

Emmie slid her hands down his back and under his boxers. "That was the idea" she whispered into his hair. "Now what are you gonna do about it?"

Without a word his fingers grasped her zipper. Emmie shivered and gasped as her wedding dress fell to the floor.

* * *

><p>The sun peeked into the cabin, right into Ryan's eyes. He stirred and tried to turn over, but something tickled his nose. He opened his eyes and stretched his back.<p>

Emmie was still sound asleep, her head peacefully on his bare chest, her arm on his ribcage. Peaceful. Naked with him under the sheet. He kissed her hair and caressed her skin.

"Morning, Mrs. Wolfe."

She stirred and opened her eyes, looking up at him sleepily. "Mmmm. Morning, Sweet Stuff."

Ryan held her close as he stroked her body over the sheet. He worried that he might have hurt her, since neither had made love in so long. "You feel okay?"

"Mmm. Slept like a rock."

"Me too. What do you want for breakfast?"

She slid her hand slowly up his muscular thigh. "You."

Ryan flinched and grabbed her wrist. "Emmie, I'm getting hungry. We better give it a rest, okay?"

"Oh, wait a second." She then stretched up and kissed the scar above his right eye. "Thought I forgot about that, didn't you?" She then settled back on his chest. "Hmm. What time is it?"

Ryan reached for his watch. "Almost eight o'clock. Come on, we should eat something. I'll call room service."

Emmie stretched her arms and looked out the window at the overcast sky and the blue Caribbean. The ship was pitching slightly in the rough seas, and that added to her relaxation. She pulled the bedspread up to her neck as her husband stood up and slipped on a pair of black shorts. She smiled as she watched him walk across the room and pick up the phone.

"You didn't tell me what you want" he said, his ear still to the phone.

"Just a buttered bagel and the strawberries" she said sleepily, still watching him. "And lots of coffee."

Ryan hung up the phone and sat on the edge of the bed, gathering himself. "Room service is gonna be here soon. Put some clothes on."

"Yes, dear." She stood up and looked through the drawer next to the bed. Now it was Ryan's turn to do the admiring. His wife slipped on a long shirt and spandex shorts, fluffing out her hair as she sat next to him. "I'm still a modest lady, right?"

"Not last night you weren't" he said with a big, sleepy grin. "You wore me out."

"Oh, don't start that. You were the one who couldn't wait, remember?"

"Could I help it if you just looked so good?"

Room service brought in breakfast and more coffee. Ryan and Emmie sat at the dining table and ate quietly while watching the seas from the stillness of the cabin. Both of them began to come alive now.

"This is so beautiful" Emmie said, watching the gray sunrise. "I'm so glad we did this."

Ryan nodded. Just that it was making her happy meant everything.

Emmie rested her chin on Ryan's bare shoulder and looked on as he read through the ship's flyer that had been left under their door.

"I didn't know they'd have so much to do on these ships" he said. "Any idea what you want to do today? Besides the formal dinner?"

Emmie wrapped her arms around his waist. "This is fine. In fact…." She squirmed out of her clothes again and ducked back under the covers. Then she flipped back Ryan's side and patted the mattress, smiling at him. Ryan playfully raised his eyebrows at her as he slipped off his black shorts, getting back under the blanket. He settled into the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She giggled as he kissed her hair and her neck, his breathing deepening. She then reached over and pulled him on top of her, kissing his nose and his face.

"I think you want something, Mrs. Wolfe" he said slyly, holding his face right to hers.

She smiled right back. "Mmm. Feels to me like I'm not the only one. What are you gonna do about it?"

"I'm gonna give you something." He kissed her neck, and she held him close as he reached down and drew up her knees.

END


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